Kappa
by Armadilloi
Summary: AU Sarah gets approval to pursue a relationship with Chuck who thinks it's an expanded effort to gain control over him and the intersect. Charah and mushy fluff w/plot.  Finally finished it!  Hooray for me.  R&R and please read the last chapter carefully
1. Prologue

**_T/N: Found an interesting one on J's hard drive. He thinks he can get around my password. And thanks to the guy who wrote and gave him the encryption program suggestion. I got it first. The Tower is mine, his laptop is his. Enjoy. He wrote this in stages between late '07 and mid-'08 when he started the Green Eyed Girl and got lost. Anyhooooo...read it. Like it. Hate it. He don't care. _**

**_Nik_**

* * *

**Prologue**

He'd been thrown out on his ear. He cut all ties with family and friends. He disappeared until early 2005 when he returned, tail between his legs, to the place he called home. What family he had left absorbed the cover story and swept him back into the fold. Everything was fine until…well, something had happened and it changed his life.

He never left things to chance. He'd been an agent/operative for almost two years and a 'contactor' for another 3 years and had never failed to eliminate the marks he accepted. His fee was always the same – information and money. The information he gleaned from various 'salted' web sites and used or sold to other friendly governments. The money was always deposited into an account in the Caymans where it would remain for not more than 15 seconds before being electronically distributed to other accounts in other banks in other countries.

He was a church, a bank, an oil company, a travel agency, a charity, an aging rock star, a pension fund and other covers for his various accounts. Twice a month his automated programs would 'sweep' his accounts of any deposits and forward them to a numbered account back in the Caymans leaving just enough money in each of the 'swept' accounts to keep it active.

* * *

This bright and sunny winter morning had found him sitting in a car beside a Starbucks riding their WiFi and logging into an intranet he used to check for 'engagement contracts'. There was an 'email', for lack of a better descriptor, waiting for him. It requested a videoconference and stressed that it was critical that he log on at the appointed time. What caught his attention was the fee amount: $500,000US, and a brief text message.

_You have not responded to requests for your services in nearly 6 months. If you fail to respond to this request, your employment file will be closed on the assumption you are no longer pursuing engagements or you are dead. Kappa, we need your services. Note the fee. Log into the video intranet using the usual means at the appointed time._

The date/time stamp was for the previous day. He'd been busy and hadn't checked his employer accounts for some time. Living a double and now a triple life was time-consuming.

He laughed when he saw who had sent him the email – Diane Beckman, now General Diane Beckman. She owed him. He'd once been tasked to eliminate her but his personal ethics would not allow him to take the task. He'd demurred and nearly lost a lucrative client, his former employer, the CIA.

He had sent her an email warning her that the CIA was on her ass and outlining the Termination Order. She'd responded in her usual terse manner saying her 'ass is worth more that a mere $100,000US'. She still had class and style. And she hadn't betrayed 'her' to the CIA either. Another mark in her favor.

* * *

The device around his throat altered his voice, making voice print analysis useless and a total waste of time. He'd tinkered a bit with it and eliminated the circuitry that would have enabled his former 'employers' to defeat the device and obtain a voiceprint. Any records of his voice at Langley or FT Meade had been mysteriously corrupted upon his unannounced departure, as had any record of his existence. He'd been on assignment and simply…disappeared. It happened all the time. The Agency simply stopped paying the agent and moved on.

Later that evening he logged on to the intranet site and entered his username and password and after a 5-second delay was connected to General Beckman who glanced up and smiled.

"I knew you were too mean to kill and too greedy to pass up the bounty. Are you still mission-capable, Kappa?"

A voice eerily similar to her own answered, "Of course, Diane. Always. And is your ass still worth more than $100,000US?" It was a long-standing opening gambit between them.

"Of course, my dear. And I'm happy to see yours is in one piece. Well, hear…since after all these years I still don't know what you look like."

"Part of the mystery and cover. I can be anyone I wish. Now, to business. Who is the mark and why is the fee so high? A high profile target? You know I will not accept just any mark. What are the mark's qualifiers?" Kappa's qualifiers were moral as well as political. Turncoats, terrorists, criminals who escaped punishment on 'technicalities', those types of marks.

Beckman looked uncomfortable. Actually, she looked…sad.

"You know of Project Omaha, of course. Well, a renegade agent infiltrated the Project, stole the database, destroyed the Project site and all programs, data and hardware and transmitted the database to an individual. This individual is now the Human Intersect with incredible abilities to store and retrieve data. We've tasked an NSA major and a CIA agent as his handlers but it's all falling apart."

"So, this individual is the mark? You have not met my qualifiers. I'm sorry, I must decline."

"Wait, Kappa. We've recently learned that Fulcrum has identified him and has recruited him. You know what damage he can do to us and what a benefit he can be to them. He must be eliminated."

There was a one-minute delay in Kappa's response. "Why not have his handlers kill him? That's what they are there for, correct? To eliminate him when the time is right?"

"Impossible. The woman is in love with her asset and Major Casey has refused to execute his instructions. They don't believe the intersect has been turned. The woman is hopelessly compromised and Major Casey is now suspected of being Fulcrum. Your brief is to eliminate the intersect host and, if necessary, his handlers."

"Why not simply extract him and put him in deep security? That way you retain his 'utility' without the loss of the data."

"We've tried. Twice. Both times his handler or handlers intervened and foiled our attempts. The CIA is not aware of our attempts. Director Graham does not believe Bartowski has been turned and is actively supporting the compromised agent to the point of allowing a relationship to develop between them. They will soon be told that they are free to 'see what develops' as well as move in together to enhance security."

"What is the source of your information that Bar – the mark – has been recruited and that Major Casey is Fulcrum?"

"A deep cover agent infiltrated Fulcrum and discovered the information. He is a friend of the target and former partner to the CIA handler. His name is Bryce Larkin. His character and reputation are impeccable. There is no reason to question the validity of his report. It is irrefutable."

"What time frame is desired?"

"Within 72 hours."

"Location?"

"Burbank, California."

"Impossible. It will take me 24 hours simply to arrange getting there and I have to survey the terrain and then conduct extensive reconnaissance of the mark. Find someone else. You conditions are unacceptable."

"Fine, as long as he's dead by the end of the month. That gives you 7 days, Kappa. I'll deposit 10% of the fee as usual and the balance upon confirmation that the target has been eliminated. A 5% bonus if the mark's death is 'accidental'."

"I accept."

General Beckman smiled and asked if she's considered her repeated offer to meet at some quiet, out of the way spot, perhaps Bermuda or the Bahamas, to see what else they might have in common.

Another pause.

"Perhaps after this contract, Diane, perhaps I'll see you then. In fact, I think you can make reservations – for two, sweetie."

The conference was disconnected and the last image was of a leering, smiling, Diane Beckman.

"Son of a bitch!" He tore off the voice-altering device and threw it across the bedroom.

Chuck Bartowski was pissed!


	2. Chapter 2 Let the Games Begin

T10Chpt1

T/N: Prologue was skimpy, so here's another chapter to keep you interested. Then I have got to dissertate.

Nik

* * *

Chapter 1

**Burbank Buy More**

The text message was terse: **CASTLE NOW. **

Casey was grinding his teeth, trying not to kill Morgan who had latched onto Bartowski and was not letting go. He was whining about Anna Wu and his continuing battle with reality even though Chuck was on the phone with a customer diagnosing a system problem.

Chuck looked at his cell phone, saw the text from Casey and mouthed 'later' and went back to his phone call while trying to peel Morgan Grimes off his arm. He needed to take notes.

Casey glowered at him and turned and went back to the break room to use the 'secret' entrance to the Castle. One of these days Grimes would have an accident. He amused himself with all kinds of different scenarios: the falling stock shelf unit; the big screen TV unit crashing down on him; his personal favorite: Grimes being run over repeatedly by a berserk Anna Wu in a Nerd Herder. Casey had a thing for Anna Wu but kept it under control until he was in the privacy of his shower and then…

**Castle**

"Where's Chuck?" Sarah Walker was looking forward to seeing her cover boyfriend for the first time that day. She always looked forward to his special 'hello, Sarah' smile that reminded her of someone else long ago in South America. Her smile faltered as she remembered the circumstances and then was quickly restored by Casey's comment that he was 'unpeeling Grimes from his arm and finishing up a trouble ticket.'

The large monitor came to life displaying a split screen of Director Arthur Graham of the CIA and General Beckman, NSA. Something had happened and the two refused to share the same office long enough to conduct a video conference.

"Where is Mr. Bartowski, Major Casey? This is _not_ an optional briefing." Beckman was in a pissy mood so Casey knew to tread carefully.

"He's still at the Buy More, ma'am, handling a customer trouble ticket. All the other Herders are in the field. He'll be along shortly."

"I don't have time to waste. Arthur, handle the meeting. Do what you want. I do not want to waste any more time on something I disagree with so strongly. Good bye, Major Casey." She disconnected abruptly and the image wavered as it adjusted to one screen image.

"What General Beckman is so upset about is a decision I shoved down her throat. She's so…anal sometimes. Now, Agent Walker, you can fill Chuck in on the details but basically, you're moving in together at a CIA-provided apartment and your cover relationship can proceed where it will. Just don't let it compromise the mission too badly."

"The CIA feels that someone with feelings for the asset will provide a deeper and more committed level of protection than an agent operating as simply a cover girlfriend."

"Major Casey, that means you can end your evening surveillance and have a somewhat normal life if that can be said for someone living in California." He smiled knowing that the only saving grace for California in Casey's eyes was that it was the final resting place of Ronald Reagan.

"Thank you, Director. I'll try. Now, any new missions on the horizon?"

"Not at this time, no, sorry. But one can always hope. That's it. Be safe."

He disconnected and the CIA logo floated across the screen as Chuck walked down the stairs.

"Sorry, guys, I couldn't just dump the customer. As for Morgan, hopeless, utterly hopeless. Anna's dumped him for some mystery man she doesn't have the remotest chance with. I had to listen to her tale of Wu-woe but here I am." He smiled at Sarah that special 'I'm not allowed to love you but I do anyways' smile that melted her heart every time he did it.

"Well, moron, you get to live your fantasy as long as Walker can stomach it. You and she are, I'm sorry, I just can't say it. Just, please, keep the girly stuff in your love nest and keep it out of the Castle. That's not too much to ask, is it?"

"Can I have the English language version of that, please? I'm lost."

"No shit, Sherlock. What's new about that?" Casey was on a roll. He didn't mind the fact that his partner and her ex-cover boyfriend would be shacking up. No. It made his life easier. What bothered him was that he would have nothing to fill his evenings with except the History Channel, 100 Pipers and bonsai.

"Enough, Casey. Chuck, I'll explain everything tonight. Pick you up at 7pm, okay?"

"Oh, yeah, cover date night. I forgot. Imagine that. Yeah, 7's fine. See ya then, Sarah. I have to get back to work."

* * *

He walked up the stairs and back to the Buy More. His mind was not on what he was doing and so he didn't see the Dodge Ram bearing down on him. The driver blew her horn at the last minute and he scooted out of the way.

"Asshole!" she screamed at him. He looked at her and flashed. Oh, crap.

He turned and watched her park the big truck park in front of the Buy More and enter the store. He ran back to the castle.

"Guys, Eva Mardis is in the Buy More. She almost ran me down and I flashed and she went into the store. She's got weapons and drug charges galore but she's also the wife of Eddie Vasco."

Casey looked at Walker who shrugged her shoulders. "Who is Eddie Vasco, Chuck?"

"Eddie Vasco is the 2nd in command of the Fulcrum units in the American Southwest. We follow her and we find Eddie and take him and Casey squeezes him for info or maybe turns him. He used to be CIA back in the early 90s."

"Good job, Bartowski. I'll send this into DC and we'll see what they want us to do. In the meantime, go back to work and don't do anything to arouse her suspicions. In other words, ignore her."

Sarah was proud of Chuck. He was maturing and acting more and more like an agent and less like a…she didn't know exactly what he wasn't any more.

* * *

As Chuck walked back to the Buy More a second time, his mind wandered down his 'to do' list. First was to contact Larkin and find out what the hell was going on. Then he had to develop a plan to kill himself. "_That sounds so nasty on so many levels'._

He took out his cell phone, got dial tone, entered a complicated code and then dialed Larkin's number.

"Larkin, secure."

"You son of a bitch." This was said in idiomatic Klingon.

"Chuck? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? Beckman's got a private contractor to sanction me, that's what. And guess who told her I was a Fulcrum recruit, Bryce old buddy old pal?"

"Chuck, I haven't spoken to Beckman in months. I've been deep cover…"

"Yeah, infiltrating Fulcrum. She said that."

"Huh? No. I'm in Europe, Greece actually. I'm working on identifying and eliminating arms traders to and from the Balkans. Talk to me."

"She contacted Kappa for an engagement."

"Shit. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. I might have to go dark. Damn it. I just found her again and we're making some progress."

"Sarah? Good. You know, after Quito, she never, I mean, we never…"

"TMI, my brother. TMI. Watch your ass over there. I'm the last one and I'm kinda busy right now. Call if you need me. And watch out for Beckman. Bitch is up to something. I've ducked two extractions already."

"Yeah. You're the last one. I'm sorry I got you into this, Chuck. Really, man. I had to send it somewhere. You were the only choice I had, brother."

"Got to fly, Bry. Watch your skinny ass. How's the herpes?"

"Fuck you, Chuck. It was only a cold sore. I told you that!"

"That's not what Jill said."

"Have…have you heard from her?"

"She's married. Out of the family. She's happy, Bry. Don't screw it up for her. You had your chance and made your choice now live with it."

He disconnected and entered another string of numbers and turned off his cell.

* * *

He did no more than set one foot into the store before Morgan was on him like white on rice.

"Chuck, I took your advice and confronted Anna and…it was horrible. Your advice sucks so bad, Chuck."

"Um, Morgan, I didn't give you any advice. Think hard, little buddy. Did whoever gave you this advice have brown hair or almost no hair?"

"Oh, no. Jeff." Morgan was devastated – again. "Chuck, you have to help me. I'm losing my Anna-banana."

"Morgan, you never had her. Now, go back to work before a broken heart is augmented by a broken head. Big Mike's been watching you not work. Go." He pushed Morgan toward a customer and walked up to the Herder desk and read through the phone messages and then checked the board. All the Herders were accounted for. He could relax for a few seconds.

"Excuse me, but I need some help. Which of these phones is the best for web access?" He looked up into the violet eyes of Eva Mardis and was instantly captivated by her voice and eyes. She wasn't beautiful but she was certainly striking.

Chuck handled her questions, showed her several models and offered his personal opinion. She bought four of the top of the line models and then she smiled at him. "You're cute. If you're not busy later, come over to the Marriott. My ex is having a party and I have to go and make people think I actually like the guy. I only have to show my face for a few minutes and then…" she ran her fingers down Chuck's tie, across his belt and then grabbed his package and gently massaged it.

His voice squeaked "What time and how dressy is it?"

Eva giggled and gave him a tweak. "8ish and please, lose the uniform. A nice suite would really make you look…edible." She giggled again and left, making sure he saw her perfect upside down heart of an ass in her tight leather pants.

"Chuck, buddy, I need…"

"Morgan, I love ya, dude, but I need my space right now so go back to work, numb nuts!" _Christ, I'm turning into Casey!_

* * *

**Castle**

Casey had been watching the encounter on surveillance monitors in the Castle and chuckled. Sometimes having Chuck around was entertaining _and _beneficial.

"What's so funny at the Buy More, Casey? A rack of CDs fall on some kid or something?" She was getting tired of Casey's constant badgering of her asset. _Yeah, and soon he's going to be my boyfriend under the cover and over the cover and between the sheets, on the couch, on the kitchen counter, on the washing machine when it hits the spin cycle…oh, my_!'

"Bartowski just provided us with a way into the party and a chance to meet with good ol' Eddie. Here, hit 'play back' and you can see the boy in action. He does have some moves, I'll say that for him." Actually, Casey was impressed. Chuck took his orders, tried the best to obey them and when he couldn't, he did what was best for the mission.

"That BITCH!"

"I see you got to the best part. Y'know, he wasn't encouraging her or anything. She must like Nerds is all." He chuckled and then went back to the Buy More to learn more about the evening's 'entertainment'. Messing with Walker was such fun.

**Buy More**

Chuck watched as Casey came back onto the sales floor. Casey looked at him and gave him a thumbs-up and…gasp…a smile! He walked over to Chuck and got right to the point.

"Bartowski, I told you to avoid her and I see once again you fell into the shit pot and came out with the prize. So, what time and where?"

**Castle**

The chime sounded an incoming video conference and since Sarah was alone, she took it at her workstation.

"Ah, Agent Walker, good. I was hoping you would pick up. What was Mr. Bartowski's reaction? I want all the juicy details."

"He doesn't know. He flashed…" and she outlined what she knew and the 'date' at the Marriott. She was surprised at the Director's laughter. "That boy would fall into a bucket of shit and crawl out with a rose between his teeth. Too bad we can't recruit him. With the proper training, no female operative on the opposing teams would stand a chance. Incredible."

Sarah frowned, not liking the direction this conversation was heading.

"Agent Walker, we may be expanding Mr. Bartowski's role in the future. Despite his flailing limbs and girly screams, he's got real potential and has proven time and time again that the man, not the machine, makes the difference. Um, actually, the human agent, not the machine. Sorry. Must be PC and all."

She frowned even more. Definitely not the direction she wanted this to go.

"So, tonight Bartowski goes in, plays nice with this Eva Mardis, flashes on our fast Eddie Mardis and gets out again. We can't risk him in an unprotected environment like a dinner party, even at the Marriott. You and Major Casey will provide backup and support tonight. You'll be a waitress and Casey will be working the bar. Keep an eye on our boy and don't let him wander out of contact. Contact me when the mission is concluded."

Sarah called Casey and told him of their new instructions. Casey grunted when told he was a bartender but laughed outright when Sarah mentioned she was a waitress.

"What? What's so funny?"

"The Marriott's waitresses wear…very skimpy uniforms, Sarah. Very skimpy. The lad's going to get to see his Christmas present a bit early this year." He was still laughing and Sarah hung up on him in a huff.


	3. Chapter 3 Oops

Chapter 1a1

T/N: Here's another chapter. R&R. he doesn't read them unless they're nasty but I read them all so _**be warned**_.

Nik

* * *

**Westwood Marriott  
****Westwood, CA  
****7:00pm**

Casey smiled as he saw Sarah leave the employee locker room wearing her 'uniform' that consisted of a black lace halter top, a black micro miniskirt, black fishnet stockings and high heels. The black uniform contrasting with her blonde hair and ivory complexion created a picture even Casey could appreciate. Bartowski would take one look at that uniform…

Sarah was…uncomfortable. She didn't want Chuck to see her dressed like a slut. And that's exactly what she looked like, in her opinion. Sure, he'd seen her in her underwear when they had to shower off the suspected toxin, he'd seen her in her modest bikini at the beach and he'd seen her wearing extremely revealing clothing but nothing like this trollop's outfit. Maybe he wouldn't see her.

**7:45pm**

Chuck arrived at the Marriott wearing his best suit. Sarah had picked it out for him, had it tailored and given it to him for a birthday present. He knew it was because she was embarrassed about his wardrobe or lack thereof. Well, he wasn't Kappa in Burbank. He was Chuck Bartowski, Nerd.

He walked into the bar and ordered a whiskey and water and sat at the bar watching the service area through the bar's service entrance. He caught a flash of blonde and almost dropped his drink. Sarah Walker was wearing…almost nothing except a little bit of black lace halter top and a very small skirt, fishnets and 'fuck me' pumps.

He sighed and looked away. Sometimes he wished he could just bare his soul to the woman and get all the lies and pretenses out of the way and just love her like a man should.

Unfortunately, his agency training had included a briefing about the honey traps and that's what his Sarah was, a honey trap and he was her bee to be controlled and used. No. She could never be with him. She was an agent but so far had not employed any of her seduction and control methods on him. He didn't know how he'd handle the situation if she did. He'd probably turn her down. She wouldn't mean it. She would just be doing her job.

Eva Mardis walked into the bar and saw Chuck and smiled. He cleaned up nicely and obviously had good taste.

"Hi, Chuck. Let's go mingle, get seen with Eddie and then leave. I have a room here. We'll get room service and see what develops." She was standing very close, leaning into him and running her hands over his shoulders. He just hoped she didn't see the earwig transceiver in his ear.

"Suits me. You look fantastic. I thought you looked great in those leather jeans but this…this is just awesome." He mentally cringed but from the blush settling into her cheeks, she thought it was…sweet.

She leaned even closer, closed her eyes and kissed him, biting his lip when she ended it and sighing, thinking _I'm going to enjoy tonight even more than I thought._

Sarah saw the kiss and its effect and felt like someone had kicked her in the stomach. One of her co-workers asked if she was all right and she just told her 'cramps' and got a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

**Marriott Ballroom  
****Westwood, CA**

"Come on, Chuck. Let's mingle and then we can leave and be ourselves for the night. I'm so glad you decided to come. I've been so bored and lonely. I hope you're up for a long night of pleasuring me because I certainly am. Oh, yeah, you're definitely up for it." She laughed and rubbed her palm against his crotch, enjoying his arousal and surprising shyness.

Chuck flashed on Eddie Vasco, tapped his watch and then walked over and had Eve introduce him. He'd palmed one of Casey's micro transmitters and planted it on Mardis without any trouble. Casey saw the pass and again wondered how Chuck would do with proper training. The pass and plant was perfectly executed. He was impressed. He opened his cell and contacted NSA-LA for assistance and then went back to building drinks at the service bar. He ignored Chuck, not wanting to spoil his evening.

Eve spotted the ear wig transceiver and watched the man she thought was just a cute way of entertaining herself plant a bug on her ex-husband's shoulder. If she hadn't been watching for it, she wouldn't have seen it.

As they were walking away, she turned and told Chuck she needed a minute to discuss some financial matters with her ex and to please wait for her.

She walked over to Eddie, seemed to be arguing with him, leaned over and whispered something in his ear and then left to rejoin Chuck. When they turned away, Mardis motioned one of his men over and whispered instructions.

Sarah had seen the picture-perfect plant and was watching sadly as the two left. She saw the mark send two of his men after Chuck and Eva. She called Casey from the service area and told him what she'd seen.

"Follow them. Don't lose sight of Chuck. NSA is on the way. I'll catch up with you as soon as they arrive and I can point them in the right direction. Go, Sarah!"

Sarah followed them out into the hotel lobby and saw them get on the elevator.

The pick had been perfect. The two goons followed them out into the bar lobby and one of them stuck a gun in Chuck's ribs. Eva leaned up and plucked the earwig from his ear and looked at him sadly. "We could have had such fun tonight, Chuck. I'd have fulfilled all your fantasies and sucked you dry but no, you had to go and spoil it!" The last phrase was spoken with pure malevolence.

They walked into the hotel lobby and got on the elevator. Eva pushed the button for every floor up to the seventh. She looked at Chuck and mumbled, "it could have been your seventh heaven, Chuck, but it's going to be hell instead."

The elevator stopped on the seventh floor and Sarah was waiting with gun drawn. She'd run up the stairs to the 7th floor. The two men were obviously dead and Eva Mardis was cowering in the corner. Chuck looked up with pain-filled eyes and saw her standing with her weapon pointing at him and sighed, "Sarah, I'm sorry about the suit, honey," and slid down the elevator wall and sat staring at Eva. "She's so much more of a woman than you could ever be, Eva. I doubt I could even get it up for a scumbag slut like you. And she doesn't even see me as a man. Go figure." He smiled and passed out, the silenced pistol falling from his hand.

Sarah stepped in, hit the emergency stop button and called Casey. "Casey, opposition eliminated. One prisoner and one," she tried not to cry but it was so hard, "and one asset down. Seventh floor elevator. Please hurry, Casey."

She pointed her pistol at Eva and was going to kill her when Chuck groaned, distracting her. She rapped Eva on the side of the head with the pistol and then knelt down and checked Chuck for a wound. There was a wicked looking blade covered with blood on the elevator floor. The entire side of his shirt was sopping wet with blood and she still hadn't found a wound.

Casey and the medics arrived and Casey pulled Sarah away from Chuck. "Let them help him, Sarah. We have a prisoner to interrogate…when she wakes up. You did good, Walker. Took them both out with that kung-fu shit but you didn't have to kill them."

"Casey, I got here just as the door opened. They were already dead and the bitch was huddled in the corner, blubbering. Chuck was standing there with a silenced pistol in his hand and he…he…he apologized for getting his suit messed up and then he said, then he said…" It was all too much. She started crying and Casey pulled her out into the hallway.

"Walker, Sarah, stop this, now. He needs you strong not falling apart. Go with him. I got things in hand here. Call me when you know something about the kid. Go with the medics, Sarah."

**Westwood Trauma Center  
****Westwood, CA**

Sarah sat in the waiting room and a nurse brought her scrubs and pointed her to the women's locker room.

Two NSA agents were stationed outside the ER entrance and another two were standing at the open door of the room Chuck was being treated in. Sarah walked past the two men and into the treatment room. One of the doctors started to tell her to get out but the sight of her crying and the pistol in her hand dissuaded him.

"Found it. Get him prepped for surgery. Have a dialysis unit on standby. It looks like they got his kidney. Move it, people. We don't want to lose this one." He winked at Sarah and said as he passed, "He'll be fine, Agent. We're always looking at worst-case scenarios here. Don't let the comments worry you. We just want to be prepared for the worst. He'll be fine, I promise."

**NSA Detention Unit  
****NSA-LA**

"Tell me again, Eva. This time, tell me the damned truth! He backhanded her and then stood up straight, intimidating the naked woman zip-tied to a chair.

"I told you and told you. We got on the elevator, he killed the two guys Eddie sent and I stabbed him and then he…he hurt me. He hurt me bad. I can hardly move my neck. He hit me in the neck with two fingers and then I couldn't move my damned arms. He hurt me bad. I can't feel my damned arms. I need a doctor."

"If he dies, you won't need a doctor. The blonde will kill you slowly. You'll pray for death, Eva. Now, tell me what happened and cut the bullshit."

It went on like that for three hours. She told the same story under chemical interrogation. It was always the same. 'He killed them and hurt me.'

Casey shook his head. The bitch had to be lying. Bartowski? No way. He needed to see the security footage from the elevator camera.


	4. Did she lie then or now She Loves Him

T/N: Taking a break some I'm giving y'all one...lol Enjoy and push the damned green button. It mollifies him somewhat. BTW, his damned MGB is in the garage. My baby was recalled and I'm never going to hear the end of it.

Nik

* * *

**Westwood Trauma Center**  
**Westwood, CA**

Chuck was out of surgery and in recovery in less than two hours. According to the surgeon the stab wound had nicked an artery but there was no damage to the kidney at all. He'd been very lucky. Still, he would be in pain and discomfort for a few days but there was no permanent damage. He could return to normal activities in two or three days. There were no restrictions.

She called Casey and asked him to bring her a change of clothes but he said she needed to catch 'a nap and a shower' and he'd sit with Chuck and then think of something to tell the sister.

One of the NSA agents drove her back to the Marriott to pick up her car and she drove to her residence hotel and showered and changed into something she knew he liked and then drove back to the Trauma Center. Casey was nodding off and jumped from the chair when she prodded him.

"Sorry. Just dozing, really. We've got surveillance cams on the halls and the room, so keep it PG, Sarah. He's out for a while. When things calm down, you and I need to talk, preferably without ears. Eva Mardis is telling a wild tale and she's consistent no matter what means are applied. I believe she's telling the truth. By the way, Eddie's singing like a bird and Graham is pleased overall but really pissed about Chuck. No flak our way but he's worried. We'll talk more like I said."

"Casey, what he said in the elevator to that bitch, it broke my heart. He said I didn't see him as a man. Why would he say such a thing? Have I been…handling him, Casey? Doesn't he know it's real to me?"

"Sarah, I don't know what to think about him. Did you see the plant? Flawless. She made him because of the damned earwig. No other reason. She said when she saw what was in his ear she watched him like a hawk and even she almost missed it. It's like he's two people, one a bumbling nerd and the other, hell, I don't know what the 'other one' is."

"Well, when he's out of here I'm going to sit him down and have a long talk with him. I love him. He has to know that. Surely he knows even if I haven't said it?"

"Maybe he thinks it's all just a cover within the cover, that you're working him like a mark for…I don't know, compliance? Talk to him and see what you can learn about the damned elevator. Eva said he 'hit her with two fingers' and she couldn't move her arms and the pain was incredible. Now that's incredible."

* * *

Casey left and Sarah took his place. She held his hand and looked at it, really looked at it. Several of the fingers had obviously been broken and one was poorly set. She also saw that one wrist had a nasty scar running transversely. She'd never imagined his hands having been so abused. Maybe something from his childhood? She'd definitely ask him.

The nurse came in and took his vitals and smiled at Sarah. "He's going to be fine. If his vitals are fine tomorrow he'll be out of here. Once they found and tied off the bleeder it was just a matter of stitching him back up. A mugging? Sad. Well, he'll be waking up anytime now. Use the call button. We have to do some checks and then he can go back to sleep."

Chuck awoke an hour later, disoriented and muttering and grimacing. She pushed the call button and the same nurse came in, raised his bed so that he was reclining rather than lying flat on his side and did some neuro checks and recorded his vitals. "Give him water if he asks for it. He needs to keep his kidneys flushed and water is the best way. Drugs never are the answer."

She sat staring at him while he slept. She'd never really spent time looking closely at Chuck Bartowski. Now she noticed small scars around the eyebrows and the corners of his mouth. Even when they cover-kissed she'd never noticed them. His nose had been broken several times over the years. Maybe it was the harsh lighting or the absence of shadows.

"Sarah, quit staring at me while I sleep. That's so weird, baby. Could I have some water? I am so thirsty and my mouth tastes like plains of Afghanistan."

Sarah puts the straw to his lips and watches him drink. "Thanks, babe. Ah, sorry, I meant 'Sarah'. I don't know what's wrong. I'm all loopy. I feel like I've been cut open and sewed up wrong. What happened? Are you OK? Did we get Eddie Vasco?"

"Chuck, you can call me 'babe' or 'baby' anytime you like. I like it. It makes me feel warm and all fuzzy. Yeah, we got Vasco and that bitch wife of his. She stabbed you, Chuck. She tried to kill you. Why didn't you watch your back? I almost lost you, Chuck." She started crying and Chuck thought, very uncharitably, _'Tears. Wonder what page she's on in the Honey Trap Guide to Nerd Control?'_

"Hey, no tears. I just knocked her down. I didn't know she'd stabbed me or I might have punched her, but hey, quit crying, please? Please, Sarah. Don't cry for me."

"Oh, Chuck, I was so scared. Your whole side was soaked in blood and I couldn't find the wound and I was panicking and the bitch wouldn't shut up so I hit her with my pistol. And then you told her stuff but you…you…"

Chuck sighed. '_More tears. She must have aced the Asset Control classes. She's got me feeling guilty for getting hurt. She's really good at this. Wait, what stuff?'_

"Sarah, what did I say? I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry for whatever I said. I don't remember but I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."

"You said I didn't even see you as a man. That's not true. I've always seen the man named Chuck Bartowski. I just wasn't allowed to acknowledge it until now.

Sweetheart, I love you and I know you feel something for me. We're moving in together. Graham has given us full approval to let things develop between us. No restrictions. The CIA is providing an apartment but until it's ready, you'll stay with me."

"Sarah, is this your idea or the Agency's? You told me spies don't fall in love and that there was never anything under the cover and now you're telling me _those_ were all lies and that _this_ isthe truth? Look, I'm really tired all of a sudden. Go home and we'll talk more when I'm out of here."

"Chuck…" But he had fallen back to sleep. She wanted to shake him, to kiss him, to drag his ass back to her residence hotel and just hold him until she was sure it was safe for him back in 'the world'.

He groaned and woke up. He must be in discomfort. "Hey, babe, you look like crap. Go home, Sarah. I'll be fine. Please, for me? Get some sleep. You look like crap. Go. Catch some Zs. Quit beating yourself up. I'd have been dead a long time ago if…" He fell back to sleep, a tight, pinched look on his face.

She _was_ tired. It _had_ been a hectic day and a terrifying night. She and Casey had to talk. Maybe all she needed was the man's perspective on things. Damn Chuck and his irrefutable logic. He was so damned aggravating at times, especially when he was right.

Ellie! Oh, crap! No one had called Ellie. She would be worried about him and it wasn't like him to stay out all night without calling her.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek and then whispered into his ear, "I really do love you, Chuck. Really. It's not the cover, it's the truth. I'll show you, convince you somehow. Now sleep safe, sweetheart."

She stood and stretched sore and stiff muscles and left to find Casey and solidify their cover story. She'd brief Chuck when they had their cover story straight so he wouldn't slip up and tell the truth. He had a disgusting habit of always telling the truth. He'd never make it in her world. Sometimes the truth would get you killed.

* * *

Chuck opened one eye to a slit and saw that he was alone. He had to get up and out of there. Sarah had mentioned NSA security and that meant they could snatch him and extract him and he couldn't have that. Maybe he shouldn't have sent her away. That was dumb. He was alone, hurt and defenseless if they came for him. He heard what she'd whispered and he wished it had been true but she was an agent first and foremost.

He did a quick assessment and made his decision.

**Castle**

John Casey had watched the surveillance footage from the elevator security cam at least five times and each time he muttered the same imprecation: 'No way, not Bartowski!'

He made a decision. He looked up a cell number and made a call.

"This is Major Casey. I want two armed guards outside Bartowski's room until I get there. No one in and no one talks to my asset. No, not even medical staff. I'm on my way. If he tries to leave, shoot him. Yes, with a trank gun, numb nuts!"

He called Walker and his conversation was brutally brief.

"Walker, secure."

"Get back to the hospital."

"Has something happened to Chuck?"

"No, but it's about to. I'm bringing the surveillance video from the Marriott elevator. You won't believe it. I want answers." He hung up and left the Castle for the hospital.

**Westwood Trauma Center  
****Westwood, CA**

Casey waited for Walker in the lobby of the hospital. She came in and walked over and handed him a cup of Starbuck's coffee. She'd showered and changed clothes but she still looked tired and worn.

"Let's get up to his room. I have something to show you and I want him to explain exactly what's going on here and exactly who the fuck he is!"

"John, what the hell is wrong with you? He's Chuck Bartowski. Who else would he be?"

"That's exactly what I'm going to find out, Agent Walker."

She noted the shift in tone and demeanor. Especially 'Agent Walker'. Casey had his game face on. She didn't know what was going on but she didn't like his attitude.

They walked down the hall to Chuck's room and saw a crowd of medical staff gathered around the door. Sarah immediately thought 'medical emergency' and started running while Casey was right beside her thinking 'I hope he didn't kill those two guards.'

Casey pulled out his FBI identification and said very loudly, "FBI, let us through, FBI!"

The room was filled with medical personnel, several of whom were snickering.

The two NSA agents were unconscious but in a naked embrace, each with an arm handcuffed to the bed. Their weapons were neatly arranged on the visitor's chair out of their reach. There was no sign of their asset, just slowly-emptying IV bottles pooling on the tile floor and a set of bloodstained hospital pajamas.

"Son of a bitch. He's gone. Son of a bitch." Casey's voice was tinged with awe and surprise. He didn't know how he'd done it but Bartowski had fled undetected.

"Answers, Major Casey, answers right now. Let's see this tape of yours and then I want answers." She was livid and seething with barely suppressed rage. Her Chuck was out there hurt and alone and it was obvious to her that the NSA had attempted another extraction.

The doctor had smelling salts and had revived one of the two NSA agents. Casey pounced on him.

"Where is he? Where is Bartowski?" It was all he could do not to lay hands on the groggy man and shake answers from him.

"He…he opened the door and it startled me, us. I pulled out the trank gun and shot him. He grabbed me and…and that's all I can remember. Man, I got a headache."

"Are you sure you tranked him? Are you sure you hit him? You didn't miss?"

"No, no, I hit him, twice. Where is he? I'm gonna kick his ass. Oh, my head!"

Casey pulled out his cell phone and made a call. "Lock down this damned hospital. No males in or out. Not until Agent Walker or I have a look at them. I want a top-to-bottom search of the hospital. There should be a male patient sleeping off two trank darts. Restrain and detain for transport."

Sarah pulled her weapon and shoved it into Casey's ribs. "No one extracts Bartowski without my say-so, NSA Major. That's all this has been, hasn't it? An elaborate attempt by Beckman to extract Chuck. So not going to happen, Major."

"Walker, you don't understand…" He could see her point of view but once she saw the tapes and the evidence around them, she'd understand.

"No one's taking him anywhere but the Castle. We, you and I, we'll do the questioning. He trusts us. He'll be honest with us, with me. Please, John, please."

"OK. But Sarah, he's not who we think he is. I mean, he's something else."

"I don't care. I want your word of honor, John, as an officer who took an oath, not as some NSA robot."

"I give you my word of honor, Sarah."

"Fine. Let's find him. He's hurting and probably scared out of his mind…"

Casey snorted and then sort of smiled and muttered under his breath "We're the ones who should be scared out of our minds…"

They found him in a room across the hall, dressed in clothes taken from the NSA agents. He was sitting in a visitor's chair with his back to the door, holding the hand of an elderly comatose woman and they almost left, not wanting to disturb them, until Sarah noticed that he wasn't wearing shoes.

He was sleeping off the tranquilizer darts.


	5. Microwaves Monster Trucks Monster Guilt

Chapt3

T/N: Another chapter for y'all to ruminate and comment upon. The Charah stuff is on the way. I just have to figure out where he intended to insert the numerous 'interludes', 'intermezzos' and 'cut outs' he's written that supplement the chapters. Give me a week and I'll have it figured out. I am a genius, y'know? Oh, yeah, this is what he calls a 'keystone' chapter. Loads of hints and double-backs. You figure it out. The man is patently devious.

Nik

* * *

**Castle Detention Cell**

He jerked into full wakefulness. An ice-cold bucket of water dumped over your head tends to do that.

"Who are you?" He knew it was Casey.

"Casey, are you nuts! I'm Chuck. Chuck Bartowski! You know, the moron, idiot, numb nu…" The punch to the face stopped his litany of Casey's pet names for him.

"Who are you?

"Chuck. Bartowski. Who do you think I am?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out. Now, again, what's your name?" Chuck heard the frustration in his voice, the anger.

"Chuck Bartow…" Another punch to the face. He heard the 'pop' and knew his nose was broken…again. He hated that. His eyes would turn black and he'd look like a raccoon.

He looked at Casey and saw a man who wanted answers and didn't care how far he had to go to get them. Curiosity might kill the cat but Casey would kill _him_. He was telling the truth but the truth would definitely not set him free.

Sarah was watching on the monitor. She flinched and fought back tears each time Casey punched him. She was a cauldron of boiling emotions. She'd watched the elevator security tape. That was not her Chuck. That was someone or something else. Her Chuck was not…so…ruthless.

She'd watched it five times, each time slower until finally she watched it in slow motion advancing the frames in groups of 5 or 10. The woman turned and said something to Chuck, her face a mask of hate when she turned back to the front of the elevator and Chuck just smiled and then suddenly both of the thugs were on the floor, unmoving and dead.

As Chuck bent down to retrieve the pistol Sarah watched as Eva Mardis pulled a wickedly curved blade from her purse and stabbed Chuck in the lower quadrant of his back. Chuck spun around and seemed to touch her neck and she dropped into the corner obviously in distress. He reached behind him and pulled out the knife and threw it to the floor just as the camera showed her stepping into the car and Chuck sliding down the wall to the floor.

She couldn't believe that the man who'd killed two men and disabled his attacker was the same gentle man she loved. She glanced at the interrogation monitor and closed her eyes. He _just _looked like her Chuck, he _just _sounded like her Chuck…the man on the screen was _**not**_ her Chuck.

Her cell rang and she was sending it to voice mail when she saw it was Bryce.

"Walker, secure."

"Where's Bartowski? He's not answering his cell. I have to talk to him, Sarah. It's urgent!"

"Bryce, we think Chuck's been taken and a double put in his place. We're interrogating him now. Well, Casey is."

"Shit. Sarah, listen, it's Chuck. It's really him. You don't know what's going on. He's…he's super deep cover, Sarah. He's…he's the guy from Quito. It was Chuck. He's the one who got you out, saved your life and dumped you on the embassy steps."

"No. No way. Nuh uh. Please. No. Bryce, please, it's not him. Tell me it's a lie. You told me he was dead, killed by the insurgents of the Quito Shining Path. You lied to me, you bastard. All this time he's been right here, right in front of me and I couldn't see it."

"I'm coming home, Sarah. He's the one from Quito. I talked with him yesterday. Beckman burned him. I can't talk over the phone. I'll meet you at Unit 4 in the mountains. Chuck has the GPS coordinates. Three days. Protect him for three days, Sarah. You owe him…and the stupid son of a bitch is in love with you and has been since…well, since forever. Three days, Unit 4."

She watched on the monitor as Casey put on rubber gloves and started hooking up a hand-held electrical generator and gave it a few tentative cranks. Chuck just looked at him calmly, shook his head and then closed his eyes. He sighed in resignation. There was a certain irony in the situation. These two were tasked with 'protecting Chuck Bartowski' and they'd end up killing him instead, all the while thinking they were protecting him. He grunted at the irony.

Casey fastened one of the electrodes to a strap around his head and the other to a strap around his bare ankle and then cranked the generator. The DC current coursed through Chuck and his back arched and his mouth opened in a silent scream. Casey stopped cranking and Chuck settled back into the chair. His wrists were bleeding from where the zip ties had cut into the skin. He was panting and covered in sweat. Casey threw another bucket of cold water on Chuck and began cranking again.

What seemed like a lifetime later to Chuck, Casey asked him again, almost gently, "Who are you? What's your name? Where is Chuck Bartowski?"

Getting no answer, he cranked the generator and Sarah cut off the audio. His screams could still be heard through the detention cell Plexiglas. She remembered what Bryce had said and she acted.

The detention cell door opened silently and she heard Casey say, "I'm going to keep cranking this until either you tell me what I want to know or your brain burns up or your heart bursts. Now, again, what is your name? Who are you? Where is Chuck Bartowski?"

"Casey, that's enough. If you kill him we'll never learn the truth."

"Tough. I'm going to crank this thing until he either burns up or talks."

"No, John. You're not." She shot Casey with three trank darts, and then walked back into the control room and called Bryce Larkin.

"Larkin, secure."

"Walker. Unit 4. We'll be there. I want answers. Don't be late."

"I'm in Greece, near the Albanian border. It's going to take me a while to get into a city with an airport. I'll call and let you know my progress. Take care of my brother, Sarah. He's all I have left."

"Brother? He's your brother?" She was talking to a dial tone.

Chuck felt someone cut the zip ties and then try to lift him from the chair.

"Chuck, stand up, please. I can't hold you up unless you give me some help. We're going off the grid and meeting Bryce. I want to know everything there is to know before he gets there. Aw, Chuck, don't cry. I'm not really mad, just confused and a little ashamed."

She knew his emotions were in turmoil; his handlers had turned on him and he had no idea who he could trust or _if _he should trust. Casey trying to microwave his brain certainly didn't help.

She got him to stand and then they walked/dragged themselves up and out of the Castle. She loaded him into her Porsche and drove to her residence hotel. She wanted some things because she didn't think she'd be coming back.

"S – S – Sarah…go to my place. Got stuff to help us. Please. Damn, I'm bleeding on your seats. You'll need some combos first." He was shivering and possibly going into shock.

**Casa Bartowski**

Ellie wasn't home so she slipped through the Morgan door and faced the Tron poster. She pushed the upper left corner then the lower right corner and then held the lower left corner and twisted it counter-clockwise. There behind a fake fuse box panel was the safe, just like he said with a tiny QWERTY panel. She entered 'SW082481' and it opened. The son of a bitch knew her birthday! She grabbed the handle of the steel box and twisted it and pulled it out. It dropped to the floor. 'This damned thing weighs a ton!'

She levered it out of the window and dragged it to her car parked in the alley. Getting it into the trunk was a bear.

Huffing and puffing, she got back into her car and was reaching for the ignition when Chuck grabbed her wrist. "Go to this address. Switch vehicles. They'll be looking for a Porsche going speed of light. You'll like it. I promise. I know how much you like…" and he either fell asleep or passed out. She took the piece of paper and punched in the address in her GPS and drove to the other side of Echo Park to a storage yard for cars and trucks.

* * *

"Chuck, Chuck, we're here. Help me out, baby. I don't know what you wanted to do. Chuck?" She shook him by the shoulder and finally opened her glove box and pulled out a small first aid kit. She popped smelling salts under his nose.

"Gah! Oh, we're here. OK. Drive down this aisle all the way to the end. Park here and then help me out. I don't want you blowing your sweet ass to San Francisco." He was trying to get out but had forgotten the seat belt. She unfastened it and then helped him out of the car.

They pulled a tarp off a huge 4X4 Crew-cab pickup with a bed cover and raised wheel suspension. Sarah looked at him and grinned.

"Wait. Watch. Chuck groaned and got down on his hands and knees and then crawled under the truck and pointed to a box with a flashing red light. He flipped a toggle switch and the light turned green. She helped him up and he entered a door code and then she went back to the Porsche and backed it up into a vacant spot and covered it with the tarp. She dragged the heavy metal box over to the truck and then got her bags and the bag she'd retrieved for Chuck and the two of them pushed them up into the truck bed.

"Sarah, I'm going to crawl into the back and crash. Wake me if you need anything or if you get tired and need company. I don't want to know where _you're_ going in case we need to split up. But first, find a UPS truck or FedEx and throw these in it." He handed her his wallet and cell phone.

"No, baby, wait. The zip ties cut your wrists and ankles. I need to dress them. Turn around, Chuck, I need to see something. I need to check your incision."

She gasped and then started to tremble. It was him. It was him. The damned scar. Oh, God, he'd been right here all the damned time.

"Sarah, let's move it. I'm not going to be able to hold it together much longer. Too much, too often, too soon, shit, rambling."

He crawled over the console into the back seat and was asleep before she could even think of anything to say. There was no way they were separating. Not now. Not ever. Once they got to Unit 4 she knew he planned on sending her away, back to her world. _He was her world now_. She'd found the Voice.

* * *

**San Bernardino Mountains, CA**

Six hours later she pulled off the county highway onto a secondary roadway. It had snowed earlier in the day but the driving had been easy thanks to the 'monster' Sarah found surprisingly fun and easy to drive. It was loaded with gadgets and all she had to do was load the GPS coordinates Chuck gave her into the unit and the route was marked…until it wasn't. The GPS announced they were 'there' but 'there' was a wide spot in the road with an unpaved fire road going east.

She made the turn and drove up the winding fire road hoping she hadn't made a mistake. Unit 4 was one of a series of 'mythological' survival centers established years before when the unthinkable was contemplated by nuclear powers on a daily basis but maintained and endlessly reprovisioned by the mindless employees of government.

**Unit 4  
****San Bernardino Mountains**

The ramshackle cabin looked abandoned. It was supposed to. It was a small structure on a flagstone foundation with the obligatory clapboard and chinked logs and stone chimney. It was totally obscured from the air by thick old-growth forest. Chuck had visions of a roaring fire in the fireplace suggested by the almost falling-down chimney. He never expected what he found.

The outside belied the inside. It looked like a hotel suite with a well-appointed kitchen, a side-by-side refrigerator/freezer, plush carpeting, hardwood floors and a fireplace already prepped for a fire. There was no sign of Sarah Walker.

He started the fire using newspaper and kindling and in minutes the chill was off the room. He checked the reefer and it was stocked and cold. There was electricity but he hadn't seen a power pole in miles, not since they'd turned onto a rutted road from a similarly poorly maintained county road. Safe, indeed.

He went out to the truck and brought in the bags, the strong box and her duffel. He didn't know where she'd gotten to but suspected the bathroom. Poor girl hadn't stopped in hours. Must have a bladder the size of a walnut now stretched to near-cantaloupe size.

Looking down the snow covered fire lane leading to the rutted county road he wondered if the truck could be seen from the road. He went back in and found the keys where she'd thrown them and then drove the truck around behind the cabin and backed it into a small wooden barn and closed the doors. Satisfied, he went back into the cabin in search of warmth.

There was only one bedroom – unless the now-locked door led to a series of rooms, which he doubted, given the perimeter of the cabin. He sighed and looked for a place to crash, preferably close to a heat source since he couldn't find any source of heating other than the fireplace. He respected her right to privacy but wished she'd been a little more charitable towards him by at least throwing him a spare blanket.

He walked out onto the covered porch and brought in enough wood to last the night and part of the following day and then, tired from an incredibly confusing and brutal day, he fell asleep on the couch covered with an afghan some blessed soul had left on the back of the couch.

Sarah Walker awakened from a nightmare involving Diane Beckman, John Casey and Chuck Bartowski. They were trying to pry secrets out of his head – literally – with a crowbar and a hacksaw and he'd screamed that she'd betrayed him and left him to his enemies. She'd had variations on the dream since falling asleep but this most recent version actually woke her.

She'd fallen asleep fully clothed and had pulled the comforter over her sometime during the night. She looked over at the other side of the bed but Chuck was not there. Feeling a moment of panic she checked the bathroom and then unlocked the door and walked out into the dark living area. The fire was still going but there was no sign of him. He should be in bed, warm and toasty, not wandering around and probably getting lost or stuck in a snowdrift.

She opened the door to see how much snow had fallen and was shocked to discover that the truck was gone! She panicked and ran back to the hallway leading to the bedroom and found her duffel. She opened it and assembled an MP-5 and pulled on a parka she'd found hanging on the back of the door and went out in search of one Chuck Bartowski.

She found truck tracks heading around behind the cabin and a set of footprints partially filled with newly fallen snow. He'd even had the sense to back the truck into the barn to allow a quick get-away if they had trouble. Smart. But where the hell was he?

She walked all the way around the cabin making sure all was in order. The propane generator had been automatically turned on when the safe house was activated. She couldn't understand why he hadn't turned on the heat.

Sarah walked back into the cabin and saw him asleep on the couch, covered with an afghan that didn't quite cover his 6'2" frame. She suddenly realized she'd crashed and burned and hadn't familiarized him with the cabin. So why hadn't he come back and slept in the bed?

Her subconscious provided the answer, flashing on her _unlocking_ the bedroom door and going out… Aw, shit, she'd locked him out. Poor guy probably figured…probably figured what? I told him I loved him and then I locked him out. Talk about sending mixed messages!

"Chuck…Chuck…Chuck, wake up. Come on, Chuck, wake up and come to bed. I've got it nice and warm and I know how cold you must be…Chuck, please wake up and come to bed."

Chuck heard a nagging voice telling him to get up and come to bed. He wasn't exactly warm where he was but he wasn't cold either. Still, the voice was compelling and seductive and the warm bed…

"OK, I'm up. Give me a minute to get… OK, I'm up."

"Well, let's go. Bed. Warmth. Sleep. When you wake up I'll show you how the house works. Sorry I flaked out on you. I don't know why I locked you out, Chuck, but I'm sorry and it wasn't deliberate. More like force of habit than anything else."

"Fine. We'll psychoanalyze your motivations regarding access to your boudoir tomorrow or the next day when I wake up."

With his back to her, he stripped off his clothes and without so much as another sound collapsed into the bed pulling the covers over him and was asleep within seconds.

She was shocked and amused at his actions and at his apparent disregard for her presence when he stripped and got into bed. She was also pleasantly surprised by the well-developed shoulders and back muscles his actions had displayed. In the faint light from the bathroom, she confirmed the star-shaped scar that appeared to be an exit wound from a gunshot. She noted professionally that his surgical dressing was intact and there was no evidence of bleeding. From his crappy posture and clothes she'd never have guessed what lay beneath.

He was constantly surprising her.

Yawning and filing away what she'd just seen for later analysis, she stripped off her clothes, promising herself she'd burn them, found a t-shirt in his bag and put it on. She snuggled up against his back, threw an arm around him and was also asleep within seconds hearing the familiar voice tell her she was safe. The remainder of her sleep was dream-free.


	6. Interlude Bryce vs Sarah

Interlude2  
T/N: If I don't post it now, I'll forget it and mess up something. Nik.

* * *

"Larkin, secure." He answered his cell phone, knowing full well who it was but he followed procedures.

"Walker. Unit 4. We'll be there. I want answers. Don't be late."

"I'm in Greece, near the Albanian border. It's going to take me a while to get into a city with an airport. I'll call and let you know my progress. Take care of my brother, Sarah. He's all I have left."

"Brother? He's your brother?" He hung up, already kicking his ass for saying too much but he wanted Sarah to know just how serious he was. No one outside of the family knew that Chuck Bartowski was the half-brother of Bryce and Ellie. Chuck had taken care of that bit of intelligence when he hacked into the various databases back when he first got recruited.

Now he'd broken trust with Chuck and Ellie and there would be hell to pay if anything happened to Ellie as a result. There was no place on God's Green Earth or under it that Bryce Larkin would be able to hide from the wrath of Chuck Bartowski.

Ellie and Bryce had been born in Chevy Chase, MD. Their mother was an analyst with the CIA and their father was a rising star in the State Department who came from Boston and was Old Money. The Larkin family had made it big in textile manufacturing before the turn of the century, had invested the money wisely in real estate, and now were influential in government. Bryce's grandfather had been an Under Deputy Secretary of State and had 'overseen' his son's career in the diplomatic service.

Her supervisors saw opportunity in the marriage. Having an 'agent' in place in various embassies around the world who wasn't known as an agent but rather as the 'wife' would be of immense utility and so Natalie Wentworth Larkin was made an 'agent' in the sense that she reported intel gleaned from unusual sources – the wives of fellow diplomats.

As with any scheme, there was the proverbial 'fly in the ointment'. Robert Larking was a drunk, a mean drunk.

He celebrated his daughter Eleanor's birth by getting drunk and shacking up with one of the embassy secretaries who later became pregnant. The family settled the matter quietly with a large check and an assignment in another country.

Twelve months later London police answered a domestic disturbance call at the Larkin apartment and took a drunken Robert Larkin into custody for nearly beating his pregnant wife to death over some domestic issue. Again the family stepped in and used political influence to quash the matter. The Larkins were 'called home', a divorce arranged, custody granted to the mother, financial arrangements made and the matter was put to rest.

Natalie Wentworth Larkin had proven to be quite adept at intel gathering and so she was placed in an analyst's position pending the birth of her child. She polished her analytical skills and her performance gained attention. After the birth of her son, Bryce, she was offered a unique opportunity to hone her skills, and serve her country while being a single mother.

She was assigned to a special projects lab in Groton, CT where she was the project liaison for the CIA. There she met Stephen Bartowski who headed up the project. Things heated up and with CIA consent, the couple married and soon transferred to California where Stephen's research in memory optics was integrated into a new endeavor – the Omaha Project.

Seven months later a son, Charles, was born.


	7. Sarah Has Many Names But Only One Face

Chapter4

T/N: Is your interest flagging? Is this to boring to bother with continuing? I do have other things to do ya know?

Nik

* * *

**Unit 4  
San Bernardino Mountains, CA**

Chuck woke up disoriented. He knew he wasn't in his bed but wherever he was, he was wrapped in something warm and soft. He opened an eye but it was pitch black and he wasn't about to go stumbling around in the dark until he knew exactly where he was. The soft and warm something murmured something in her sleep and then nuzzled his chest and went back to sleep.

He and Agent Walker had gone off the grid to Unit 4 in the San Bernardino Mountains. They'd arrived late the previous afternoon and she'd crashed in her room. HER room. Not THEIR room. He didn't need a light to know he was buck-assed naked in bed with Sarah Walker. Once that would have been interesting but not now.

He eased out of bed, gently placing her on the section he'd just left. No sense alerting her by dropping her on cold sheets. Making sure she was covered up and warm, he gathered up his clothing and hotfooted it for the bathroom. He closed the door and turned on the light, wincing in the sudden brightness. He confirmed what he already knew. Yep – naked.

His hand covered his eyes, protecting them from the bright light and he wracked his brain for some memory of doing something improper but could not dredge up a single instance and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He didn't want or need any more complications in his life. Especially with her involved.

He took a quick and very hot shower and dressed in his boxers and a t-shirt. Leaving the light on and the door slightly ajar for illumination, he found his bag at the foot of her bed and went back to the bathroom, took a pill for his ever-present headache, shaved as best he could and got dressed appropriately for the weather. Rummaging around in his 'strong box' he found what he was looking for and all it's attachments and left the bedroom and went into the living room.

He stirred the fire and added a couple more logs and then went in search of a coffee pot and coffee. The weather outside hadn't improved and they now had six inches of new snow.

Chuck sat on the couch and examined the M1911 .45, making sure the mag was empty and that the safety was on. He cleared the weapon and reset the safety. He loaded the magazine from a box of shells and slapped it into the butt of the pistol.

He screwed the silencer into the muzzle of the pistol. He loaded 2 more magazines and then walked out onto the covered porch and around the back of the cabin until he found the woodpile.

At the rate they were using wood, he'd need to split several of the sawn logs and make at least 3 or 4 trips onto the porch to reload the rack. Sighing at the prospect of working muscle groups that had not seen heavy activity since Stanford's sculling practices and races he stretched his arms, shoulders and back in the 'recommended' manner and then began splitting wood.

Sarah woke to the rhythmic thumping of something behind the cabin. Noting that she was again alone in bed, she dressed and worked wonders on her bed head and went in search of that most elusive of prey – the Chuck. Pulling on a parka and her boots she wandered out onto the porch and gasped at the snow. She was not a snowbird and preferred warmer climes and white sandy beaches for her morning strolls.

Chuck had shed coat and sweater and was down to a t-shirt and his jeans. He'd found his rhythm early on and was splitting the log stock and working up a sweat to boot. His mind was working on the problems facing them when his 'spidey sense' triggered and he dropped the ax mid-swing and whirled, the silenced Colt pointing in the perceived direction of threat.

Sarah had been watching Chuck split the stock with almost effortless swings of the ax. She thought it was strength but Chuck would have told her it was simply physics. She watched as his muscled back rippled underneath his sweaty t-shirt and wondered again at the hidden assets of her…she wasn't sure anymore what he was. She must have sighed or perhaps dislodged snow because she was startled when he dropped the ax on its downward swing and turned around pointing a pistol at her.

"Sorry, didn't know you were there. Please don't sneak up on me, babe. I'm very nervous about all this and, well, accidents happen, don't they?" His double entendre brought a slight frown to her face. Was he threatening her or commenting on the CIA's way of eliminating obstacles and excess?

"I didn't expect to see you there and I guess the snow muffled my steps. Sorry, Chuck. Thanks for the coffee, by the way. When you're done killing the woodpile I'll have breakfast ready. Don't cool down too quickly or you'll chill and stiffen." She turned and walked back to the cabin. _'I'll have breakfast ready'?_ _Like when did I suddenly become June Cleaver? And when did I learn how to cook?'_

* * *

Chuck walked into the cabin 15 minutes later with a load of firewood in his arms and a slight smile on his face. For some reason he didn't understand, the exercise this morning had improved his crappy mood immensely.

Sarah was sitting at the kitchen table drinking in the sight. She couldn't get over how effortlessly he'd split the wood or the look on his face when he'd whirled to face her. "You stink. Shower then breakfast." She buried her face in her coffee mug hoping he hadn't seen her flushed face. Damn it, he was not a cabana boy.

"Why all the chopping and stacking? Just feel like exercising?" He'd been very focused on his tasks and she wondered if the logs were substitutes for people who'd wronged him. His actions were almost premeditated and violent.

"How do you think they heat this place, Sarah? Do you see any vents for central heat? Wood. Although why they moved the sleeping quarters so far from the heat source is a mystery. That bathroom floor must be like ice in winter."

"I keep forgetting I didn't show you around last night. I'm sorry I flaked out on you, Chuck. I was groggy from no sleep and the stress of the moment and I just crashed. After you've eaten I'll give you the nickel tour." She sniffed exaggeratedly. "And definitely after you've showered, Paul Bunyan."

He showered and changed clothes. He laughed when he saw 'breakfast'. A bowl of cornflakes and a fresh cup of coffee. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't give me that look. If you want a country breakfast, cook it yourself. I am _not_ a kitchen person." She glared at him then laughed. If he could see the look on his face.

"So, Chuck, you handle that .45 like you were born with it in your hand." She was curious about his abilities since his file said he had absolutely no experience with weaponry. And Casey had commented that he hated weapons and was a typical 'California fruitloop'.

But there was nothing in his file regarding the Stanford period or the first few years after he left Stanford. Just the academic transcripts, comments from professors and his expulsion records.

"I want an explanation; I want to know what I don't know about Chuck Bartowski. I haven't been able to look at your CIA file. No one assigned to your detail has. All we have is a bare-bones synopsis with background on you, your family and known associates. So do I get answers or not?"

He frowned and looked down at his empty cereal bowl. Without raising his head he simply stated that at one time he'd been an 'intelligence agency specialist' but he'd burned out and quit and tried to pick up the pieces of his life. He left out any reference to Kappa.

She'd never seen his face so devoid of emotion, like a marble statue. Almost like he'd looked when Casey was hooking up the damned electrodes before trying to microwave him. Like he was resigned to his fate, whatever it might be. He hadn't told her a damned thing she didn't already know.

He stood up and walked outside. Chuck hated that time, hated it worse than any other except for his last year at Stanford. She grabbed her winter gear and took off after him.

She found him staring off into the distance sitting on the stump he'd used for splitting wood. He was far away but she needed him here.

She walked up behind him and put her arms around him, her cheek against his.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. I'm sorry I pushed you for answers but I don't know you well enough to know when to stop pushing. Forgive me for pushing and forgive me for not being the person you need me to be."

"I know it's painful but if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here for you, Chuck Bartowski. Maybe we can share horror stories and help each other slay our personal demons." _Maybe you'll believe I really love you and it's not all a cover under the cover. I've loved you since Quito and I didn't even know your name or see your face those days you brought me back to life. Bryce told me you were dead and I believed him. I'm so sorry for that._

Everything caught up with Chuck at that moment, his situation, her kindness, his feelings for her and his suspicions about her and how things in Burbank had gone to hell in a hand basket. He could never go back.

"It's OK to cry, baby, it's OK. No one's here to judge you, Chuck, no one. It's OK." She stroked his neck and just held on, listening to his sobs gradually taper off.

"I'm sorry. I suppose you think I'm some kind of drama queen. I've never…I've never talked about it before. And now I'm the last one and they know I'm alive." He sniffed and wiped his eyes.

"Well, since it's just you and me, feel free to talk - or not. I'm no one to judge anyone, Chuck, believe me."

"Your hands are freezing. Let's get inside and warm you up and then you can give me the 'nickel tour' you skipped last night."

"Cold hands, warm heart, Mr. Ex-Secret Agent Man, or haven't you heard?" She giggled and it seemed to surprise them both.

"I'll never tell anyone you did that. My lips are sealed."

She gave into impulse and kissed him briefly then giggled again. "There, sealed with a kiss…" Laughing, she stood and dragged him upright and pulled him toward the cabin door. "C'mon, it's cold."

The first few minutes back in the cabin were awkward to say the least. Chuck was upset with himself for his emotional breakdown and Sarah was upset because she'd given in to impulse and kissed him. No, she wasn't sorry. She was sorry she hadn't been more…convincing. It was not a damned cover kiss and she wanted to let him know that but he was so damned suspicious. It was the first time since Quito that she'd kissed him and meant it as something other than the damned cover. Neither made eye contact and both looked anywhere but at each other.

Finally Chuck threw a log on the fire. "Since we're cold and you seem to think the heat source and controls are national secrets, I need to keep the fire going, Sarah."

"Fine, Chuck. I'll share the secrets of 'heat' if you'll do me one big favor."

Suddenly wary, he looked at her for a few seconds before gravely nodding his agreement.

"Use my first name but drop the attitude. It's real, Chuck. I love you. Accept it. It's not a cover thing."

"Fine. But which first name? There are several in the file and I don't think I can figure out the alias from the real name. Do you have a preference?"

"Y – You've seen my file? But how?" She was taken aback by his comment.

He closed his eyes for a moment, anticipating the pain. And then he flashed on her file already in his 'memory bank'. "Hey, Sophia Stenopoulous, Rebecca Finegold, Louise Baltimore, Ashlynn Dulles, Patsy Dunaway, Lia Magnialli, I could go on but what's the point? I'm the intersect, remember? I didn't pry, but the first time I saw you I flashed and it's all stuck up here now."

"Call me Sarah, please. The others are just aliases for a job. Sarah, please?"

"And 'Sarah' is just an alias for the job named _Bartowski._ I get it. No problem." He was a little pissed at her, at her surprise and the flicker of anger he saw pass through her.

"Chuck, it's not that. It's…" She could tell he hadn't liked her response or maybe the look on her face. She needed to remember this guy was in the top 1% of brains in the nation.

"Never mind. Heat, as in secrets and controls." He was willing to let it go. He didn't really care who she really was since it would make no difference in the end whether he knew 'her' for real because nothing in her world was real for very long. She'd really accelerated the 'Asset control' regimen, telling him 'she loved him'. She was probably contemplating the 'final solution', sex.

As Sarah took her time explaining everything and its function, Chuck's mind wandered until he found himself sitting once again in a run-down walled villa in Quito, Ecuador talking with his handler in Langley.

_**Flashback**_

_"Your assignment has changed. Put on your wings. You're an angel of mercy and this time for the CIA for a change. A deep cover team was captured by Fuglencio Rivas, a Shining Path wannabe. The man escaped but he had to leave his partner behind. He had no choice. His intel was vital and his partner was too badly injured to go with him. If you can, extract, otherwise, terminate. Questions?"_

_"You want me to kill a fellow CIA agent if I can't get him out? Are those your instructions?"_

_"Extract and if impossible, terminate."_

_"No. No more. I won't do it. Not to a fellow agent. I'll get him out. How's the weather there in Langley? Got a nice view from your window? Not too hot or not too cold for you, is it? You munching on a toasted bagel while drinking your Earl Grey? Their decisions must be the high point of your day, you soulless piece of shit. I'll get him out but then…I quit. No more. Tell the Director anything you want. I have 45 days left on my contract and then I'm gone."_

_"Agent, you'll do as instructed. A lot can happen to you in 45 days." The threat was evident in his voice._

_"Yeah, you son of a bitch, and a lot can happen to you when I'm no longer tasked. Things you chair-warming assholes read about in reports and jerk off to in the men's room. Keep that in mind. Now, give me the location and whatever else you know."_


	8. What happened in Quito per Chuck

Chapter5

T/N: Since you all have your various ideas about what happened and what it meant, here's the only version that counts...his...lol Now keep pushing that green button. I like to tell him the numbers. It makes me feel better since I've basically hijacked his journals.

Nik

* * *

"**What happened in Quito" – Chuck's Version**

Rivas had a compound on the outskirts of town in the foothills. He was supposed to have 20 to 30 'dissidents' with him but Chuck had already figured out that those would be the 'student leaders' who would run the inevitable demonstrations against the current government and provide support and publicity for the 'Movement'.

He drove a battered Land Rover up to the closed gates and pounded on them, calling for someone to help him in his broken Spanish.

The small man carrying the big rifle told him to get lost and punctuated it with a few pokes in the belly. Chuck acted like the typical gringo tourista and the man told him again to go away. When the man poked him in the belly again Chuck took the rifle from him effortlessly and then pounded him senseless with it. He dragged the body off into the bushes and then slipped into the compound.

He covered his face with camo paint and reversed his jacket until the matt black side was exposed. His jeans wouldn't require any alterations.

There was a small shed behind the main building, probably once a tool shed but now it was a jail. The windows had wooden slats nailed across them and there was a man asleep, leaning against the shed. Chuck slipped up behind the shed but couldn't see anything in the poor light. He had about an hour before sunrise and he needed to move quickly.

He took out his Gerber and slipped around the side of the shed. The guard was just waking up when Chuck put him to sleep, permanently. He searched the body and found the keys to the padlocks securing the shed door and slipped inside.

He heard a moan and crouched down at the sound and then carefully duck walked over and felt around for the source of the moan.

He was crouched down, arm extended, fingers just brushing the dirt floor when he encountered warm bare skin. He chanced using his mag light and, holding the small light in his mouth, he examined his 'find'. His light passed over battered flesh finally settling on a face so misshapen from beatings that he gasped, astonished that she was even alive. It was a woman and he could tell that only from the long blonde hair framing her face.

He put out his light and stowed in his bag and reached down to pick her up and she moaned 'No, please, not again…' and he almost dropped her.

"Hey, beautiful, you're Ok, I got you and you're going home now. I would never let anything bad happen to you." She might have been beautiful once but now…

He made it out of the compound with his burden. He'd given her a shot of Demerol to keep her quiet but also to minimize her pain when he carried her. He put her carefully on the rear seat of the Land Rover and drove to rapidly to his own compound.

* * *

_"Olympus, secure."_

"Cut the crap. You didn't tell me the agent was a woman. That was critical information and you withheld it. Why?"

_"You seem to be able to accomplish miracles so I decided to challenge you a bit. Did you terminate her as instructed?"_

"No, you… no, I didn't terminate her. She's lying across my bed. I'm going to clean her up, dress her wounds and then 'reunite' the happy couple."

_"It might have been more convenient for all concerned if she had 'expired' but I suppose we can come up with a suitable cover story. What kind of shape is she in?"_

"Unknown. I just walked in with her. I'm moving to another location. I'll be in touch."

_"No. Relocation is not authorized. Stay put and a team will extract her and take care of any problems."_

"As you wish." Chuck terminated the call. He laughed bitterly. He hadn't been 'in residence' at the CIA house in Quito as everyone expected since his arrival in-country. No one knew about this place. He could handle the enemy; it was his 'comrades' he worried about. He didn't know why but he knew someone at Langley had screwed up and was burying the evidence and that his 'guest' was evidence.

He walked into the bathroom and filled the old fashioned tub with hot water. He stripped off his own clothes and then the blonde's. There was nothing sexual about it, nothing unsavory. He needed to know the extent of her injuries and obviously he couldn't tell if she were clothed. Besides, she didn't have much on, just shreds of a tank top and one sock, and the stink of her own waste wasn't all that pleasant.

Satisfied that nothing was life threatening, he gently picked her up and then stepped into the tub and sat down holding her. The hot water must have stung because she began to moan and thrash about.

"Hey, beautiful, you're Ok, I got you and you're going home soon, back to your partner. I would never let anything bad happen to you. You're safe. I'm just cleaning you up. You're safe here. I'm not going to hurt you. Calm down. Relax and enjoy the special treatment. I don't do this for just anyone, y'know?"

She mumbled something unintelligible and tried to open her eyes. He reached out of the tub and picked up one of several water bottles and held it to her lips. She coughed and sputtered but then grabbed the bottle and started chugging. He took it from her and whispered "Not so fast, babe, you'll make yourself sick. You can have as much as you want, just not all at once. Here, take another sip."

It took him more than an hour and three refills of the tub to finally get her clean. She was filthy, had been lying in her own waste for God knew how long and her hair was matted and gnarled. There'd been no shampoo or conditioner and the snarls were awesome. He patted her dry and found his seldom-used hairbrush and leaned her against his chest while he brushed out the knots and tangles. She snuggled against him and put her arms around him and soundlessly started crying.

After she'd quit crying, she'd wiped her eyes and nose and snuggled against her savior. "Thank you," a small voice said from his chest, "I'm Sarah. Thank you for saving me. I'm sorry for all the trouble. I need to get to the embassy. Can you take me?"

"Shhh. Not right away. Your situation is…fluid. And I doubt anyone would recognize you. Besides, you don't want to meet up with your partner until the swelling goes down. No sense scaring the worthless bastard. He left you behind. There was no excuse. He left you behind."

"The intel was too valuable and time sensitive. He did what he had to."

"I didn't see him standing in line to get you out though. Like I said. A worthless bastard."

"Bryce isn't like that at all. He loves me and I love him. We're partners in every sense of the word. He would have come back for me if he could. I know he would have. The mission must have gotten in the way."

"B – Bryce?"

"Yeah, Bryce Larkin. You two know each other?" She'd heard something in his voice.

"No. Different Bryce. Let's get you into bed and I'll dress some of the nastier cuts. Are you hungry? Sorry, should have asked earlier." He needed to concentrate. He was losing sight of his objective.

"Yeah. I can't remember the last time I had anything to eat."

"I'll get you something easy on the stomach. Scrambled eggs OK?"

"Oh, yeah. And bacon. I have such a craving for bacon."

"I'll see what I can do. Cover up and I'll cook. You can eat while I dress your cuts. And I'll have to figure out something for you to wear. Isn't cool for you to be prancing around in your birthday suit."

He walked downstairs to the kitchen and dialed a code and then speed dialed a number.

"_Larkin, secure."_

"You worthless bastard. You left her behind. You haven't even tried to rescue her. You…"

"_Left who behind? Chuck? Is that you?"_

"Your fucking partner. Just like Minsk. Same deal. I'm seeing a pattern here, my brother. You need to start worrying about your partners, Bryce. You've already gotten one killed and the other one is pretty much gone, out of the service. Make this right, Bryce. Someday you may need to be saved and I won't be available. I'm quitting. I'm going home. Contract is fulfilled. I won't be talking with you again. Take care of _this_ partner. She loves you. Be safe."

"_Chuck, is Jill OK? I mean…"_

"She's out of the program. She might even walk again without a cane. Do you remember how she loved to run? Dance? God, could my girl dance. Don't try to contact me, Bryce, and please don't bother Jill. She's found someone else, a civilian. Let her live her life in the sun, not the damned shadows." He hung up on his half-brother.

Bryce could be a stand-up guy where a girl was not involved. He hoped he learned his lesson and would stand by his partner when the shit hit the fan. She seemed totally gone on his brother. Well, Bryce always did get the girl, even when he didn't really want them. Like Jill.

Burying his bitterness, he scrounged through the antiquated Amana for something to cook for his guest.

Sarah Walker could barely hold the fork so he fed her. Between bites he explained what had happened with his handler and how he had to devise a plan to get her into the embassy in such a way that no one could 'act' on any orders from Langley. In other words, make her arrival so spectacular that everyone would know who she was and that she was alive.

"You're mistaken. The Agency would never burn me. Bryce and I have been too effective to be split up. And he wouldn't stand by and allow anything to happen to me. I know it. We love each other too much."

He sighed and shoved food into her mouth to shut her up. He was tired of hearing about how great his brother was. He loved his half-brother but didn't particularly like him.

She stopped him from shoving the next fork full and asked him what he looked like.

"Short, overweight, slightly balding. It's a race between gray and gone. I'm probably on my last mission. I'm near retirement age and this life has been exciting enough for this old man."

"Stop lying to me. You're tall, well built, you have a well-trimmed beard, you sound about 30 and you're nowhere near retirement. C'mon, tell me the truth."

He sighed. "I have some things to do. Coffee is to your right. I'll take care of the plate. When I get back we'll take care of the scratches and I'll set your nose and then we'll work on reducing the swelling around your eyes. There's a .45 under the pillow but please don't shoot me when I come back, Agent. It's bad form to shoot the guy who will see you safely into the embassy."

She laughed for the first time and he was entranced. Leave it to good ol' Bryce to find the best looking and sounding agent to partner with. Bastard.

"How long will you be? You're coming back, aren't you? You're not going out to arrange an extraction are you?" She hated that she sounded frightened.

"About an hour. Going out to buy you some clothes, underwear and I think you can just wear sandals. Shampoo, conditioner and a toothbrush. Remember, don't shoot me. I have to get moving. The stores open early and I want to minimize my exposure."

Chuck finished his shopping and then thought of something else she'd probably need or at least want and went back into the small tienda to pick one up.

He threw all his purchases into the Land Rover and drove a circuitous route back to his villa checking for tails. He started calling her name when he was at the bottom of the stairs and even knocked on the door before entering, warning her that it was him and not to shoot him.

She was asleep, snoring lightly through her broken nose. He needed to set it and there was no time like the present. He placed his thumbs on either side of her nose and snapped it back where it belonged. She started throwing punches before he could step back and she caught him square on the nose and he heard the 'pop' of the bone breaking.

"Sarah, damn it, it's me. I just reset your nose. I figured it wouldn't be as traumatic if I did it while you were asleep. Damn it, stay here. I need a wash cloth or something." He was bleeding from the nose. Damn, he'd lost track of how many times he'd had it broken.

He came back and told her to lie still, he was putting a hot compress on her eyes and he'd be back with ice to reduce the swelling and to _please _not shoot him.

While the compress did its thing, he cleaned and dressed her larger cuts and covered the rest with antibiotic cream. She wouldn't even scar if she were lucky. Mentally, he wasn't quite so sure.

"I bought you some clothing. I had to guess at the underwear so don't feel obligated to wear it if it's uncomfortable. Also, a robe so that when you're on your feet you don't have to dress if makes it easier on you. You're bathing yourself from now on."

"What? No free peeks?"

"You couldn't handle doing it yourself and I wasn't thrilled with a shit-covered woman sleeping in my bed. Don't flatter yourself, Agent. I've seen better." He got up and left. Damned woman. Thought he was some kind of pervert.

"Wait, that's not what I meant. Wait, please."

Chuck went to the refrigerator and took out a beer and downed it without thinking. He took another and went out to the patio to enjoy the morning coolness and not think about the woman in his bed. It had been a while since he'd been with a woman but he wasn't interested. He would never betray his brother. Who knows, maybe _this_ time he _did_ love her. She certainly loved him.

Sarah Walker lay on her side with her face buried in his pillow. She had hurt his feelings after all he'd done for her. She would always remember what her mysterious rescuer had said. '_Hey, beautiful, you're Ok, I got you and you're going home soon. I would never let anything bad happen to you'._ She dozed off into a dreamless sleep.

She's been asleep almost ten hours and he woke her by shaking her foot. "Time for some ice. It'll reduce the swelling and hopefully this time tomorrow you'll be able to open your eyes a little." As soon as she could open her eyes and focus he'd need to wear a mask of some kind. No one knew his identity and he wanted to keep it that way. He was going off the grid as soon as he returned her to safety.

He went back down stairs to cook supper and give her privacy to get dressed. He didn't need any more distractions.

He heard her call and he went up the stairs two at a time and opened the door. She was sitting on the side of the bed looking pitiful.

"I can't see what I'm doing and my hands still aren't cooperating. Can you help me, please?"

He sighed and handed her the robe. "Here's a robe. Wear that until you can see well enough to dress yourself. If you don't need anything else, I'm in the middle of cooking supper. Are you hungry?"

"I could eat. I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean it like that. I meant…"

"Doesn't matter, Agent. I'll be up with supper in a few minutes. Then you can soak in a hot tub if you like or just sleep until morning. No TV here but wouldn't matter since you can't open your eyes yet. How do you feel otherwise? Trouble breathing? Anything I might have missed?"

"I'm fine. Go back to your cooking. I'll fend for myself."

He fed her chicken and rice and wiped her battered lips carefully with a damp cloth between bites. He did a quick physical survey of her hands and then gently massaged them. She groaned in appreciation and started asking questions and all he'd say was 'Shhh, not now.'

When she nodded off, he removed the dishes, covered her and went down to the kitchen. He hated the nights.

He didn't sleep well and…and he was alone. The stress of his tasks, the separation from humanity, the things he sometimes had to do…all were taking a toll on him. Despite what the shrinks and profilers said, he was not cut out for this life. He was not a loner. He still missed Jill but knew they could never have recaptured what they had at Stanford. He kept the ring as a reminder on a chain around his neck when he wasn't on assignment.

Two days later Sarah Walker was found bound and gagged on the steps of the American Embassy. The Marine guards had not seen her being dumped out and she could tell them nothing because her benefactor had shot her up with Demerol but TeleMundo, CNN and Fox had all been 'tipped' and Sarah Walker made national and international headlines. No harm could come to her now.

Agent Charles Bartowski ceased to exist in the computerized files of the Central Intelligence Agency. Any evidence of his existence, mission reports, payroll records, insurance, psych evals, all mysteriously vanished. It was as if he'd never been.

He'd finally gone home.


	9. What happened in Quito per Sarah

Chapter 6

T/N: I had to split this one. He tried a side-by-side and I guess it didn't work for him so I found this one megachapter and split it into 5 & 6. Enjoy. Hope it answers all your idiot questions. Sorry, bad day. NIK

* * *

**Sarah's Version of "What happened in Quito" (Unabridged)**

Our mission was simple: go in, evaluate the threat and get out again. It had all gone to shit in the first 30 minutes and I got knocked unconscious by a guard Bryce had missed. He was supposed to handle the left flank and secure the door but he failed or thought he had and moved on.

I woke up on the dirt floor of a shed. My hands were bound behind my back with wire and I'd already lost the feeling in them. My feet were likewise bound but apparently not as tightly since I could still wiggle my toes and feel them. That would soon change.

I had a monumental headache and a thirst to match it and as I tried to look around and assess my situation I realized I was blindfolded…and most of my clothing was gone. I didn't feel any pain so they hadn't done much other than tie me up and blindfold me. So far, so good.

My time sense was off and it might have been an hour or a day before they remembered me and came to play. They'd redone the wiring with my hands in front of me. One dragged me upright and hung me from a hook in the ceiling with just my toes able to take the weight off my wire-bound hands. I never saw the punches coming, just the shock and pain. They never asked me a question, never said a word, they just kept punching me until I passed out.

I woke up on my belly and my face was in a pool of blood and vomit. I couldn't breathe through my nose since it was broken and the blindfold was off but my eyes were swelled shut so that didn't do me any good. My headache was back as was an incredible thirst. I knew the headache was from dehydration as well as from having my bell rung.

I wondered if Bryce was in another shed somewhere being interrogated or if he was dead. He wouldn't just leave me behind. We were lovers as well as partners. He'd never just abandon me. Bryce was either a prisoner or dead. He loved me. He'd told me he loved me. He would never leave me. Would he?

An unknown amount of time later, hours, days, I didn't know, my friends came back. This time they brought toys. Yippee.

The big one hauled me up and hung me from the hook and stroked my cheek and murmured 'poor baby' in Spanish and then hit me in the stomach a few times. I was gagging and retching and totally unprepared for the cattle prod they poked into my breast. The pain was intense and I must have screamed and annoyed them because one of them tore off my panties and shoved them into my mouth to gag me. I don't know how long they had their fun but I checked out shortly thereafter.

I came back in stages. I knew I was still alive, the incredibly disgusting taste of three-day-old panties fresh in my mouth and I was lying in a pile of my own shit. Apparently I'd lost bladder and bowel control during their prodding session and they'd lost interest and thrown me down on the shed floor. I was so humiliated. They don't cover these feelings at the Farm. I was ready to tell them anything they wanted to know _if they'd just fucking ASK_!

Bryce must be dead or a prisoner. There was no way he'd have left me. I cried for me and I cried for us but mostly I cried for me. I was afraid, I was willing to tell them anything and all I wanted was a drink of water and their questions. I'd screw their damned donkey for some water. No, I wouldn't. That was disgusting. I was losing it. I tried to think of the best times with Bryce but all I could think of were the times he'd used me to accomplish our missions. So I cried some more and finally I just gave up. May be I passed out or maybe I slept, I don't know.

* * *

Some one was touching me, very tentatively and I couldn't help myself. I was broken and all I could think of was avoiding the pain. I mumbled 'No, please, not again…' when he started to pick me up and he almost dropped me. Probably shocked by the stench.

And then I heard the words from the Voice. "Hey, beautiful, you're Ok, I got you and you're going home now. I would never let anything bad happen to you." An American voice saying the most beautiful sentences I'd ever heard and promising to take me home.

"I'm going to give you a shot of Demerol because I need you to be quiet and I don't want to cause you any more pain than these assholes have already caused. They're dead, a big one and a little one. They'll never hurt anyone again. I'll come back later in the week and pay the Jefe a visit and you'll be avenged. That appeals to you, right? Getting back at these bastards, even if it's second hand?"

"Now, you'll feel a little pinch but when you wake up you'll be safe. Sweet dreams, Blondie."

* * *

Sometime later I started to hurt all over and I was burning! Every scratch, cut and sore burned and I tried to get away from the source but strong hands held me and I heard his voice.

"Hey, beautiful, you're Ok, I got you and you're going home soon, back to your partner. I would never let anything bad happen to you. You're safe. I'm just cleaning you up. You're safe here. I'm not going to hurt you. Calm down. Relax and enjoy the special treatment. I don't do this for just anyone, y'know?"

I asked for water and I felt a little trickle across my lips from a bottle and I grabbed the bottle and tried to drink it all down. I choked and coughed and it was taken away from me.

"Not so fast, babe, you'll make yourself sick. You can have as much as you want, just not all at once. Here, take another sip."

He bathed me like I was a little baby. He was so gentle, whispering apologies when the soap would sting a cut and I'd hiss in pain. He kept draining and refilling the tub with hot water and he whispered '_sorry, but it needs to be done_,' and he gently washed between my legs and then rolled me over onto his chest and washed my shoulders and back and then, another apology, between my butt cheeks. He gave me small amounts of water from time to time and drained the tub. I thought he was done but I was wrong.

He refilled the tub a last time and then tried to shampoo my hair with regular soap, doing a credible job but creating a rat's nest of snags and tangles and knots.

He got me out of the tub, gave me more water, and then wrapped me in a large towel and carried me to the bed where he patted me dry and then somehow found a hairbrush. I pressed myself against him, put my arms around him and started to cry. He'd been so gentle, apologizing for what, to him, were embarrassing moments for me but weren't. They'd been uncomfortable for him.

"Shhh. Don't cry. You're safe and…"

"Thank you," I said, "I'm Sarah. Thank you for saving me. I'm sorry for all the trouble. I need to get to the embassy. Can you take me?" I was still crying, a minute away from a meltdown.

"Shhh. Not right away. Your situation is…fluid. And I doubt anyone would recognize you. Besides, you don't want to meet up with your partner until the swelling goes down. No sense scaring the worthless bastard. He left you behind. There was no excuse. He left you behind."

The bitter tone of voice conveyed volumes about this man. He'd never leave a partner to her fate. He'd die trying to save her. Not like my partner.

"He did what he had to." I told him the intelligence was too time-sensitive to delay. I knew it was an excuse but I wouldn't turn on Bryce, I couldn't. I loved him and he loved me.

"I didn't see him standing in line to get you out though. Like I said. A worthless bastard." Again, the bitter tone of voice like he knew something I didn't.

"Bryce isn't like that at all. He loves me and I love him. We're partners in every sense of the word. He would have come back for me if he could. I know he would have. The mission must have gotten in the way."

"B – Bryce?" He sounded shocked and hollow.

"Yeah, Bryce Larkin. You two know each other?"

"No. Different Bryce. Let's get you into bed and I'll dress some of the nastier cuts. Are you hungry? Sorry, should have asked earlier."

"Yeah. I can't remember the last time I had anything to eat."

I must have dozed off because he woke me and put a plate on my lap and a fork in my hand. "Scrambled eggs, bacon and coffee. I'll.."

I couldn't hold the damned fork. My hands were still numb from the wire ties and so he fed me and after each bite he wiped my lips with a damp cloth. I was so startled by his gentleness that I asked him what he looked like. I knew he was taller than me, had a short beard and was well built. I'd felt the beard against my shoulders when he rolled me over to wash my back. He had large but gentle hands.

He lied to me. Told me he was short, fat, bald and old. I knew he was lying and called him on it. He sighed and said he had things to do and would be back shortly. He told me there was a .45 under the pillow but not to shoot him since it was "bad form".

I asked him, point blank, if he was leaving to arrange an extraction and he just sighed and told me he was going to buy me clothes, shampoo, hairbrush and a toothbrush and not to shoot him when he came back. He told me there was coffee and he left.

I wondered why he was so upset that Bryce hadn't tried to rescue me and that started me thinking about the whole situation. I fell asleep with questions on my mind that I needed answered when I saw Bryce.

I awoke to tremendous pain and someone pressing on my face. Instinct and training to over and I started throwing punches and heard the satisfying 'crunch and pop' of a bone breaking.

"Sarah, damn it, it's me. I just reset your nose. I figured it wouldn't be as traumatic if I did it while you were asleep. Damn it, stay here. I need a wash cloth or something."

He left but then came back and told me that he was putting a hot compress on my eyes and he'd be back with ice to reduce the swelling and to _please _not shoot him. I almost laughed until I remembered hitting him and hearing something break.

"I bought you some clothing. I had to guess at the underwear so don't feel obligated to wear it if it's uncomfortable. Also, a robe so that when you're on your feet you don't have to dress if makes it easier on you. You're bathing yourself from now on."

"What? No free peeks?" I was looking forward to seeing what my hero looked like. He took it wrong and told me in no uncertain terms that I shouldn't flatter myself, that he'd seen better and that he wasn't thrilled with a shit-covered woman sleeping in his bed.

"Wait, that's not what I meant. Wait, please!" But he was gone. Damn it. I had offended him with my smart mouth. I didn't mean peeks at me, I meant I'd get to see him!

I fell asleep and was awakened by him shaking my foot. He'd learned quickly.

"Time for some ice. It'll reduce the swelling and hopefully this time tomorrow you'll be able to open your eyes a little."

He left me with my ice packs and then returned with clothing_. _"Here, clothes. Please get dressed. You're a distraction."I could hear the humor in his voice. Well, except for a sheet, I was naked. I could hear him sigh again and then say he was going to cook dinner and that I should get dressed. I guess he thought my hesitation was an unsaid plea for privacy but actually I didn't think I could do it myself. I couldn't see and my hands were still numb. I was really worried about nerve damage.

I fumbled around and finally broke down and called for help. I could hear him running up the steps and enter the room. "What is it now, Agent?"

"I can't see what I'm doing and my hands still aren't cooperating. Can you help me, please?"

He sighed and handed me the robe. "Here's a robe. Wear that until you can see well enough to dress yourself. If you don't need anything else, I'm in the middle of cooking supper. Are you hungry?"

"I could eat. I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean it like that. I meant…"

"Doesn't matter, Agent. I'll be up with supper in a few minutes. Then you can soak in a hot tub if you like or just sleep until morning. No TV here but that hardly matters since you can't open your eyes yet. How do you feel otherwise? Trouble breathing? Anything I might have missed?"

"I'm fine. Go back to your cooking. I'll fend for myself." I still couldn't feel my hands and they were still swollen from the wire they'd used to bind me. I was worried about nerve damage.

He fed me chicken and rice and wiped my split lips carefully with a damp cloth. I felt him take my hands in his and begin to massage them, causing a delightful tingling in them as the blood flow increased. Oh, God, it was the best pain I'd ever felt. I started asking questions and all he'd say was 'Shhh, not now.'

I nodded off when he started massaging my feet and legs. It was the best meal I'd ever eaten.

I woke to my foot being shaken and, well, I'm definitely not a morning person. "What? What now?" I was a bitch before I had my two or three cups of coffee in the morning.

"It's after 10 in the morning, Sleeping Beauty, and I thought you might like a bath. Afterwards, we'll work on your cuts and another round of ice and warm compresses. You should be able to see now, but the swelling looks painful…and colorful." He snickered and I could only imagine what my face must look like.

"I got you shampoo but they didn't have conditioner. Sorry. So, I'll leave you alone for a bit. I have to take care of some things. Please, don't shoot me. If anyone, and I mean anyone, comes to the door, do not answer it. I shouldn't be more than 4 hours. Fuglencio's going to get a visit and I need to scope out my hide site. Later, Agent."

I was shocked. One man was going to…

"Wait, please. You don't have to do this. The Agency will handle it. That's why we were tasked to gather the intel."

He laughed and shook his head. I could barely crack open one eye but it was enough. Tall with curly brown hair, brown eyes. He was cute, no, he was handsome. And he had the look of the devil about him. I figured he was 30 or so. The beard made it difficult to assess.

"I know. **I'm** the 'Agency will handle it' guy. I won't be long. Enjoy yourself. There's great sun in the patio and there's cold chicken in the fridge or you can scramble eggs. Gotta go."

"Wait, please. I – I don't know your name. I have to call you something."

"Need to know, Agent Walker, need to know."He turned and left. If I'd had one of my knives I'd have stuck him in the ass. He was so aggravating.

He wasn't back by dark and I was beginning to worry. I didn't know where I was; I had no money and no way to contact my partner or the embassy. I started looking around and decided to do what I do best…snoop.

He'd left his cell phone, his wallet and money on the kitchen table and a note:

_Agent Walker:_

_I don't know when I'll be back. If I'm not here by daybreak _

_I'm not coming back. You dial 334411 and then hit speed _

_dial 10 for your partner. He'll know what to do. _

_Tell Bryce Kappa said 'Tell Ellie I love her.'_

There was no signature. Ellie? Who the hell was Ellie? I felt a frisson of jealousy. Was he married? Have a girlfriend? How did he know Bryce? He said he didn't. Did he lie to me?

He wasn't back by midnight and I was frantic with worry. How could he do this to me? How could he just leave me like this? I could see out of both eyes by now and I was watching the clock in the kitchen slowly move its hands toward 4am.

I heard a vehicle pull up and stop, a door slam and then someone messing around with the locks on the double doors leading into the villa courtyard. I hobbled up to the bedroom, got the pistol and hobbled back down again. The Land Rover had been pulled into the courtyard and he was closing and locking the doors of the villa.

I couldn't help it. I was so relieved. I rushed over and hugged him and…kissed him with all the fervor my relief could muster. I'd been so worried. When we broke off the kiss I stepped back and smacked him across the face. He just shook it off and then pushed past me and walked upstairs.

I followed him as quickly as I could. My feet were still swollen despite his incredible massage. I called out to him to wait for me but he just walked into the bathroom and closed and locked the door. I was looking around for something to pick the lock with when I saw that the front of my robe was blood stained, probably from when I was hugging him! I banged on the door for him to open up but, of course, he ignored me. I could hear the bathtub filling and I had all kinds of images of his injuries.

"Damn you, open this damned door or… or I'll shoot the damned lock off!" I pulled back the slide on the pistol and pointed it at the lock and heard the clicking of the lock being unlocked and then the water turn off and a deep sigh.

I opened the door and saw him, his face still in camouflage paint, lower himself into the tub then lean out over the tub and try to reach the first aid kit on the floor. Training kicked in and I grabbed the kit and told him 'I will do that. Lie back and let me see what you've done to yourself. You're late and I was scared out of my mind.'

"Agent, if you greet Bryce that energetically, he'll be late all the time just for the benefits. I kinda forgot to duck. It's a through and through so if you could just stitch up the 'in' and then staple the 'out' I'll be fine. I already dumped a sulfa packet in it. Got sloppy. It's time for me to get out. Next time I might not be so damned lucky."

"You dumb ass! You probably have muscle damage. It tore clear through your lat muscle. Idiot! Three inches to the left and you'd be dead!"

"Yeah, but three inches to the right and it would have missed. Please cut the chatter. There're some Novocain injectors over in my kit. I could use a few right about now. Shock's wearing off and the pain is setting in."

I hurried with the injectors and as soon as he said he couldn't feel my prodding I set to work. I cannot sew but I did a fair job of it. The staple applicator made the backside easy. It would heal into a star shape.

I slipped off the robe and put it in the sink to soak and got into the tub with him and washed off the blood and then sat behind him as he had me and just held him. I'd been so frightened even though he'd left me a safety net.

"How is it you have my partner's cell in your speed dial, Mr. Secret Agent Man?"

"Need to know. I have the need, on occasion, and you do not have the need to know so put the 'seduction' on hold and let's get out of here. The stuff's wearing off and I suddenly am dead tired."

"Wait. I need to see something." I started washing off the camouflage paint and he grabbed my wrist.

"No. Some things are best left as they are. I don't want you to see me. I don't want you to remember me. After you hit the embassy I'll be gone and that's how it should be. No memories, OK? Go back and absolutely demand that your partner never leave you behind again. You're too precious a commodity to risk, even if you do look like an albino raccoon."

Sometime during the following night he shot me up with Demerol and dumped me off on the Embassy steps. The Marine guards never saw a thing. He'd 'tipped off' CNN, Fox and the local stations and I knew then that he'd kept his word. Nothing bad had happened to me.

Bryce greeted me like a long-lost love and made sure I knew how much he loved me and regretted what he'd had to do.

"Bryce, who's Ellie?" He turned pale and then just looked at the floor. After a minute he got up and left. I didn't see him until the next morning when we were scheduled to fly back to DC.

While we were waiting in line to clear customs through diplomatic means, I asked him again, 'Bryce, who's Ellie?' and he just looked at me and said "She's someone I used to know, a relative."

That told me nothing at all so I went for the throat. "Bryce, who's Kappa and why would he ask you to tell Ellie he loved her?"

He coughed on the water he was drinking and fixed me with a glare. "Forget you ever heard that name, agent. Forget what he looked like and forget who rescued you. I'll tell you this and this only: he's who I want to be like – when I grow up. Now, that's it. No more questions about this, ever. Besides, I told you, he's dead. Fuglencio's deputies took him out in revenge for popping their Jefe."

From that moment on I never trusted Bryce Larkin entirely nor did I ever forget the mysterious man who saved me from certain death and who avenged me at the cost of his own life. He was a better agent, a better man, than Bryce Larkin could ever hope to be…even if he grew up.

Whenever I had trouble sleeping, was nervous or just plain scared or hurting I always felt better and safer and more confident when I remembered '_Hey, beautiful, you're Ok, I got you and you're going home soon. I would never let anything bad happen to you' _and the man who'd said it to me. I think I love him. How's that for dumb. Spies don't fall in love.


	10. What happened to US

Chapter7

**A/N: One of the deep and dark secrets of Chuck's past has been revealed. Now the question is: Can he overcome his training and his basic instincts and embrace what's offered or will he operate in 'agent mode' and ignore his chance for happiness with a woman he's too stubborn to admit he loves and who loves him in return? **

_T/N: He really is a great cook. He does this all the time. I'm not a kitchen wench; I'm more the scholarly than scullery type. NIK_

* * *

Both of them had been lost in thought. They would have been amused and or amazed that they were thinking about the exact same thing although for Sarah it was a bittersweet memory since Larkin had told her he'd been killed. For Chuck, it was just a recital of events. He had no illusions about Sarah Walker. No illusions because he and she were alike.

"Chuck, I need a nap. This has all been a very emotional thing for both of us. I'm…I'm tired, baby. Chuck, I know it was you. Bryce told me yesterday. He told me you were the one who saved me in Quito. Back then, he told me the agent who rescued me was killed by the Quito Shining Path in retaliation for the killing of their leader, Rivas, and his cadre. I had no reason not to believe him, Chuck."

He turned and walked out onto the porch, slamming the door. Sarah just stood there speechless. She remembered Chuck picking her up from the floor of the shed and telling her it would be OK, that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her, that she was going home and gave her a shot of something.

She had no idea how to make this right. She'd just lost everything that mattered to her and her concern was for him not herself. She followed him out the door, having no idea what to say to him, just that she needed to see him and be with him.

"Chuck, I'm sorry. That was 3 years ago. A lot has happened. Neither of us is the same person we were then. Don't shut me out for something I had no control over, please?"

"I told you that I didn't blame you and I meant it. It's ancient history. I'll be fine. I just need to pull it together."

"Well, Mr. Ex-Secret Agent Man, I'm getting a frozen ass. Let's go sit inside. I'll make more coffee and you can tell me about what really happened. I want to hear what happened after you got me to the embassy. All of it, Chuck, not a single thing left out."

He squeezed her hand and then stood and helped her up, still holding her hand. He reluctantly allowed it to be pulled away and followed the blonde woman into the cabin.

Chuck went through the entire tale, from the assignment by Olympus to placing her gently in front of the embassy main gate and kissing her cheek.

"Actually, you said 'hey, beautiful, you're Ok, I got you and you're going home now. I would never let anything bad happen to you."

"You remember that? Incredible. I didn't think you could even see me let alone remember that line of crap I fed you."

"It wasn't a line of crap, Bartowski, it was a beautiful thing to hear and be told. I need a nap. Come on, so do you." She stood and pulled him up and headed toward the bedroom.

"Sarah, I'm really not tired. You go ahead. I'll be fine here. I'll just watch the fire and if I doze off, no big deal, I'll just cover up with the afghan. Go ahead. You're probably still tired from yesterday. And I'm sorta wired up from all that's gone down today. Have a lot of things I haven't thought about to think about. OK?"

"Fine, Bartowski, freeze to death out here alone. I don't care. Be that way." She stuck her tongue out at him and walked back toward the bedroom. She looked back over her shoulder at him and stopped and then retraced her steps and standing between him and the fire, she offered him her hand.

"Chuck, I don't want to be alone right now. Please, come with me. I just want to… I don't know, maybe just know that someone's there with me and that I'm not alone. Please. Just until I fall asleep. I can't get the memories of the beatings in that damned shed out of my mind right now and I'm…damn it, I'm afraid to go to sleep, OK? The big, bad, CIA agent doesn't want to…"

"OK, _that_ I can understand. But just until you fall asleep."

She took off her clothes and put on his t-shirt while he stripped to his boxers and t-shirt and slipped into the bed. She shivered and slid in beside him, curling up against him. Sarah pulled his arm around her and he pulled the covers over them and then stared at the ceiling.

Bryce just minimized the whole affair telling her that what he did was worth it. They had found important information on the Shining Path leadership in Ecuador. The same leadership had been eliminated by an 'action team' acting on their intel. She would have been rescued ultimately by that same team.

She remembered what her rescuer had told her, that he was the 'Agency team that would handle it'.

Bryce's lie hadn't been the end of their professional relationship, but it did signal the start of a slow inexorable slide toward a final breakup on the personal level. She never allowed Bryce Larkin to touch her again after Quito, ever.

She would not forget the words of the man who'd saved her. She heard the Voice when she had trouble sleeping, when times were darkest and she'd heard them today, spoken by the man who'd saved her and whom she'd been mourning for 3 years, falling in love with on an unconscious level for 3 years.

Now she had a Face to go with the Voice. She drifted off to sleep feeling very safe and secure. Nothing would happen to her while she slept. He was here.

**2 hours later**

Sarah Walker was having a deliciously salacious dream worthy of an Academy Award if 'Dirty Dreams' was a category on the ballot. She talked in her sleep, fragments of sentences, most unintelligible. But the most frequently uttered word with such lust was '_Bryce_', frequently preceded by '_Oh_' or '_Mmmm_'. This dream was no exception. Well, it was an exception since it had awakened Chuck Bartowski as she ran her hands over his chest and arms and rode her moist curls up and down his thigh.

He untangled himself from his dreaming handler and got dressed and went out to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee and took inventory of the refrigerator since it was almost dinnertime. She might not be able to cook but _he_ could. He'd had to because living and eating on campus was just too damned expensive.

He pulled out two steaks and popped them in the microwave to thaw. He'd seen a deck out behind the cabin with a hot tub and barbeque and he planned dinner around that. He peeled carrots and found the butter, brown sugar and surprise, rum, and started them cooking. The glaze would be prepared later. He found lettuce, grated cheese and various condiments and made a quick salad.

Rummaging around he found eggs and set two aside to hard boil. Onions and garlic were practically hidden behind two six packs of imported beer. He opened one and decided it would have to do. He preferred a nice domestic beer, anything really, to imported swill.

Chuck found Italian salad dressing and mixed it with a chopped onion and a mashed clove of garlic. Adding a teaspoon of pepper, his marinade was done.

Checking on the steaks he at last allowed his mind to mull over what he'd heard in bed, the dream where Walker and Larkin were doing the somnambulistic nasty. It didn't bother him. _Liar!_

OK, it did bother him. What bothered him was the fact that she seemed to use the bed and her body as foils to control events. She was obviously very well trained and experienced. Seduction and assassination were her specialties according to her file history and she had a perfect unbroken string of successes. Now he knew how far she'd go to maintain her perfect record.

Pushing it into the back of his mind, he threw the steaks in a shallow dish, added the marinade and put the pan in the refrigerator and set the timer for 60 minutes and opened up his bottle of beer.

He put the two eggs into water and waited for them to boil.

He finished his beer and got another.

The eggs were done boiling and he set them aside and made the glaze for the carrots. Testing to make sure they were done, he poured off the water and added butter, brown sugar and a few ounces of rum, stirred it all up until it began to thicken and then turned down the heat and covered them to steep.

It didn't surprise him at all that Bryce would not be upset about his partner screwing a mark for the greater good. Nope. Bryce only cared about Bryce and he had always surrounded himself with arm candy and 'easy' coeds at Stanford. Whatever made Bryce look good and feel good _was_ good as far as he was concerned.

He felt pity for Sarah Walker. He loved his half-brother but since Stanford, he didn't like him. And after Minsk, he wasn't sure he loved him. He just wasn't the same guy who had helped him learn to roller skate, ride a bike and skateboard, and who also got him into trouble by stealing all Ellie's Barbie dolls and shaving their heads and telling their mom 'it was Chuck's idea'. He'd been 9 when his mom lost custody and he wouldn't see him again for 10 years.

He peeled the eggs, diced them and threw them into the salad and covered it with plastic wrap and put it in the refrigerator. He stirred the rum carrots and drank the rest of his beer. He looked in the fridge and took two large potatoes out and washed them and then peeled and diced them. He added a mashed clove of garlic and some butter and put them on the stove and tossed them until the butter had melted and coated the potatoes. Pouring the potatoes into a pan, he added more butter; a few handfuls of grated cheddar cheese and salt and put them in the oven.

Grabbing another beer from the fridge he put on his coat and went out to check out the grill.

Sarah woke up to an empty bed and a moment of panic as she wondered where her elusive sleeping partner had gone. Well, he'd only promised to stay until she fell asleep but she'd bet good money that he'd been asleep long before her. She got up, dressed and tied her hair into a ponytail and walked out to the kitchen, following a delicious smell.

She found dinner in progress and was amazed. Steaks marinating in the refrigerator, a salad, from the smell, garlic something in the oven and glazed carrots on the stove simmering in a sauce of some kind.

He could cook! Saved from TV dinners and peanut butter sandwiches.

Chuck found a propane gas grill on the covered patio and lit it by pushing a button. He adjusted the flame and checked around for BBQ implements but didn't see any. No big deal. All he needed was a fork. He finished his beer and threw the empty bottle in a trash bin and went into the cabin to check his dinner progress.

The timer dinged and Sarah jumped and looked around for something wrong but calmed down when she realized it was just the oven timer. Chuck came in from the cold evening and nodded, going over and checking the carrots and potatoes. He pulled the pan with the steaks out and grabbed two plates and left again without a word.

Sensing that something was wrong or at least different, she grabbed her parka and two beers from the fridge and followed Chuck out into the night. She heard him swearing behind the cabin and found him with his fingers plunged into the snow, cursing all manner of manufacturers of grills without wooden handles.

"Burn yourself? Let me see, Chuck." She grabbed his hand but he pulled it back and snared a bottle of beer instead. "It's fine, just fine. Won't even blister. Enjoy your nap?" This was said in a vaguely sarcastic manner and her warning lights all lit up. "Yeah, why? What's wrong?"

He opened the grill lid with his sleeve and turned the steaks over with a fork. "How do you like your steak?"

"Medium-well. What's wrong, Chuck?"

"Nothing. Just burned my hand because I made an assumption. Figure I'd have learned by now. Assumptions kill or at the very least, injure. Can you watch these for a few minutes? I have to check on the potatoes and carrots. Didn't find any bread or rolls so we're really doing it Bartowski style."

He left her with a fork and an unanswered question.

Chuck pulled the salad out, and quickly set the table and finished his beer. He was done drinking. When he got slightly buzzed he was funny but the more he drank, the meaner he got. He wasn't a fighting drunk but he could hurt you badly with words and he knew it and wanted to avoid it. He was already one over his limit. Bryce used to say he was 'Two beers then Bed Bartowski'.

He stirred the carrots and pulled out the potatoes, tossed them around and then put on more cheese and put them back in the over. He set the timer for 10 minutes and went back out to the grill.

"Everything will be ready in 10 minutes so if you want to mess around with my cooking, now's the time to do it. I'll bring in the steaks if you'll make some coffee?"

"Yeah, that's fine. We'll talk after dinner I guess."

"Not much left to say, Agent. Not much at all. But we can try, can't we?"

She turned and walked back into the cabin. 'Agent'? _Something is going on in his head and I don't have a clue what it is. He was fine until we took a nap. What could possibly have happened?_

Dinner was a quiet affair with few words until Sarah started to moan over the taste exactly as she had during her dream. The taste of Chuck's meal turned to chalk in his mouth and he pushed his food around on his plate finally excusing himself and cleaning it off into the trash and rinsing his plate.

He admitted to himself that he was _jealous_, a stupid emotion considering she was his handler and possibly his executioner. She probably felt her control slipping. His was.

_Dumb ass. Beckman says Sarah's compromised and unreliable. Sarah says she's compromised – that it's real. Casey thinks she's compromised and it's okay so long as it doesn't interfere with the missions. Apparently even the Director of the CIA knows she's compromised and is okay with it. And finally – Bryce says she loves you, Dimbulb, and has, on some level, since Quito._

_Shut up! Where were you when I needed you? You're the one who's compromised, you and your girly side. Go away. It's not going to happen. Bryce is coming and she'll ooze right on back to where she's comfortable. Seen it happen before. With Jill. And you know how well that turned out for everyone involved – oh, yeah, it was shit for everyone but my damned brother. _

_He left us hanging in Minsk, took the intel and extracted back to DC and deep cover with Walker leaving half the former NKVD searching for an injured CIA agent and an embittered Guardian Angel. You conveniently forget her screams, how I had to gag her when I reset the leg, how the bullet wound got infected and how I puked while I cut dead tissue from the wound. You forget how she moaned and begged for her Bryce to come and save her - ignoring me - who was actually saving her!_

_Kappa, you got to let it go, man. That was then, this is now. You lost Jill but you have Sarah, don't blow a good thing just because of sibling rivalry. You heard her. She loves you, not Larkin. Don't be a fool's tool. Take what she's offering - happiness, a limitless future with the woman we love. _

Intellectually he knew it was stupid but emotionally he understood. He'd saved this woman so that she could be with Bryce Larkin, so that she could moan as he made love to her, and live the life she wanted. He resented her being happy with a man who caused him and others such misery.

"I think I'll take a walk. Enjoy the rest of your dinner. I drank too much beer and it upset my stomach. I'll be fine. Not going far."

Chuck wished he still smoked. It offered the impression of activity while sitting on your ass and either thinking or trying not to think. Right now he was thinking about how hard he was trying not to think or _feel_. He sat next to the grill and opened its lid and basked in the waning heat from the faux briquettes.

Sarah had noted a change in Chuck over dinner, a hardening, a distancing and it culminated in his excusing himself and throwing away the wonderful dinner he'd cooked. She wanted answers not platitudes or outright lies. She wanted to know what happened between lying down for a nap together and dinner.

She threw on her parka and stormed out onto the porch, getting both madder and more worried by the minute. Everything was going to hell and she didn't know why but she was determined to find out.

He saw his handler rounding the corner, the very picture of determination. Shit. He should have eaten more and then explained the upset stomach and then thrown away the food.

She came right up to him, stopping well within his personal space and looked up at him. He sighed. Tears. The ultimate weapon in the war between the sexes.

"I want to know just what the hell happened between when we laid down for a nap and when you cooked dinner. What happened between us that you've erected your damned walls again? What did I do? What didn't I do? I don't know how to deal with you, Chuck."

He started to interrupt her little tirade but she cut him off.

"One minute you're this flaky Buy More nerd that I absolutely adore and cherish and then I find out you're some super spy who saved my life and supposedly died in Ecuador. How am I supposed to be your friend, your protector, your lover, when I can't figure you out?"

"You're not supposed to be my friend, you're supposed to be objective and supportive of the efforts of the intersect. People see us together and wonder if you lost a bet. People like you end up with people like Bryce Larkin not people like me."

"Forget about the job. I want to know what happened between _us_. US!"

"There _is_ no us, Agent Walker, just handler and mark. I forgot that for a while."

"Well, damn it, something made you remember it. What?"

"You talk in your sleep."

"I talk in my sleep? That's what's got you in a funk? I talk in my sleep?"

"It's not the fact that you talk in your sleep, Agent Walker, it's what you _say and do_ in your sleep. Let it go. Just…_please_…let it go. It's my problem to deal with and has nothing to do with you and your precious mission. I'm handling it just fine."

"Well – well - well, I don't think you're handling it just fine, Bartowski. I think you're flipping out over something I said while I was dreaming. I thought we'd worked out our differences and were on the road to being… I don't know, more than friends at least, and then I wake up to the Great Frikkin Wall of Chuck erected around you again."

"Just what is your problem? I hung it out for you, for us, with Graham. I told him I was compromised but who better to watch your ass than one who loved you and he agreed, Chuck, he agreed!" She grabbed his arm to emphasize her point.

"I told you and I'm handling it just fine. Now, let go of my arm and go back inside. Please."

"What did I say that upset you so much, Chuck? What could possibly cause such a problem between us in such a short time? Please tell me. I have a right to know." Now she was getting desperate. The situation was spiraling out of control and she didn't know how to gain control again. Tears hadn't worked, even though they were real.

"I woke up to you running your hands all over me and riding my thigh and moaning and saying Bryce's name over and over. Then at dinner you made the same sounds just without his name. How could you…I mean…a sleaze like him, I know you can't help who you love but him?"

He jerked his arm away from her and walked back to the cabin. What a mess.

Sarah was speechless. She was appalled at what she'd said and done in her sleep. With all the history between those two, she had to rub it in. She couldn't control her dreams, damn him, he knew that. She needed to tell him about Bryce and hope he'd understand.

She hurried back to the cabin and found him cleaning up the dishes and loading the dishwasher.

"Please stop that and listen to me for a minute. I'm asking you to stop and listen and maybe understand."

"Yes, Bryce Larkin and I had a deep relationship. I loved him. Yes, we were engaged and yes, I would have married him but after Quito I realized some things. He 'loved' me as long as it was useful. His 'love' was situational. It never bothered him when I had to seduce a mark, have sex with a mark, whatever it took to accomplish the mission."

"Then came Ecuador. And you. You rescued me from that stinking hell and you saved me from making a horrible mistake. When I found out you were dead, well…he never touched me after that. We were partners for two years after that and never once did I allow him to touch me."

"Do you know why?"

He shook his head. He really didn't care at this point. It was all history. She still cared for Bryce enough to have sex dreams about him.

"It was because of you and how you treated me and how I knew _you _would never leave anyone behind even if you didn't love them like Bryce was supposed to love me."

"I never even knew your name, never saw your face under all that camouflage paint, just your voice, Chuck. I heard that voice every night before I went to sleep, every time I got hurt, every time I felt lost or alone or afraid. I heard your voice. I _hear_ your voice."

"Now I've found the man who goes with the voice, who saved my life more than once, who gave me hope and strength when I needed it. And now I've hurt him because of a stupid dream."

She sat down at the table and drank her cold coffee. Cold, just like her life had been and would be again.

"I'm jealous. Of him. Your dream stirred up all kinds of feelings and the strongest was jealousy. I envied him because he always got the girl, because he had money, style, and he always won. He took away my future, my fiancé, and I hated him. In Burbank I pitied you being stuck with me but mostly I hated you because you were with Bryce."

She slowly nodded her head. He was jealous of Bryce. The dream must have been horrible for him. She didn't blame him for feeling as he did. It was only natural. But she couldn't understand his demand that they only dealt with each other in the 'cover'. Didn't he understand what she was trying to say?

"I'm going to take a shower. Then I'll finish up here and the shower and bed are all yours. I'll take the couch."

He left her sitting with her cold coffee wondering how to stop this from happening. All she wanted was to join him in the shower, point to her handiwork at stitching him up and remind him that she was his, forever. But she knew it would be a fatal mistake at this point. He wouldn't believe her.


	11. Sarah has quite the temper

Chapter8

T/N: Quit asking him to finish stuff. It's on the Tower and he can't access and is too stubborn to beg...lol NIK

* * *

When Chuck came out of the bathroom already dressed, Sarah was sitting on the bed watching him. She noticed everything about him as if seeing him for the first time. She closed her eyes and saw the camouflaged Chuck picking her up and telling her she was going home. How could she not have noticed his voice, his manner? It was because she saw the Buy More version of Chuck and had closed her mind to anything else. Her superiority complex and her innate prejudice for the 'little people' who made up the Greater Good blinded her to what was right in front of her.

"Chuck, this is ridiculous. It's cold out there and it's warm in here. Please, we can share the bed. We're adults. I don't want to sleep alone and I don't want you sleeping alone. Please?"

"Fine. But wear clothes. A lot of clothes."

She showered and dressed in his t-shirt and then crawled into bed and snuggled up against his back. He was asleep and didn't notice and that was fine. Her plan involved slow moves back into his comfort zone and 'dreams' where she whispered his name. She was pulling out all the stops. She wanted this. She doubted that the instructors at the Seduction sections ever envisioned their skills being used to _further compromise an agent and the asset._

_I want the man who said 'hey, beautiful, you're Ok, I got you and you're going home now. I would never let anything bad happen to you.' _

Sometime during the night she ended up in the circle of his arms, her face against his chest and her arms around him. Unconsciously he tightened his hold and slipped deeper into a restful sleep.

Chuck woke before his handler and thanked the gods for it. His subconscious had betrayed his resolve and he'd wrapped his arms around his handler during the night and she'd done the same. She probably thought he was Bryce. He didn't have a ready excuse.

He disentangled himself slowly so as not to wake her and was about to get up when she mumbled, "Chuck". One word spoken softly. Then "Ohhh, Chuck, yes, baby, right there…"

He got up and got quietly dressed and walked out into the kitchen to start coffee. He ignored the sleeping beauty's comments. They were just dreams and he knew how disingenuous they could be.

He was such a hypocrite.

Sarah rolled over into the warm spot he'd just left and reveled in his body heat. She knew what he was thinking right now just as if she could read his mind. Dreams were not real and so her 'comments' were not real. It didn't matter – the trap had been baited. Inhaling a lungful of 'Chuckscent' she went back to sleep.

Bryce would be there in a day or two and then she would use her knives and make him tell Chuck the damned truth.

* * *

**Rome International Airport  
****Rome, Italy**

He hated Italy. He hated Italians. He hated mechanics and engineers and their damned unions. A damned airline strike! He would need to catch a train to Austria and then a flight to L.A. Damn, of all the times…

**Unit 4  
****San Bernardino Mountains, CA**

"Walker, secure."

"_Larkin, secure. Sarah, I'm in Rome. Airline strike. Taking train to Austria then flying to LA. How's he doing?"_

"He's bitter about some things, jealous about you and I, pretty close to a melt down and he doesn't believe a single word I say. He's…shutting me out, says he's the mark and I'm the handler. He's rebuilt his damned walls, Bryce. I'm starting over from square one. He's buried any feelings so deep it's scary. He's scary sometimes."

"_Sarah, ask him about the Guardians, Stanford and…and ask him to tell you the truth about Minsk. Maybe he'll realize that what he wants and needs is still in front of him. Don't let him sulk and pout about Minsk. It was his finest hour, Sarah, and he thinks he failed. That's why he quit after your rescue. And…and ask him who Kappa is. Tell him he talks in his sleep. He does. A lot. He'll never talk if you don't lie to him about how you know."_

"This better work, Larkin. Also, I want the whole damned story behind 'he's my brother'. You can't just say something like that and then hang up."

"_Well, see, it's complicated. My mom is his mom but my dad and Ellie's, well, see… not over the phone. I'll get there as soon as I can."_

"Bryce, damn you…" She was once again talking to dial tone.

She brushed her hair, threw on some clothes and went out to the kitchen. Coffee and conversation. And she knew just how to start one.

* * *

He was sitting at the table drinking coffee and staring at nothing, probably miles away and she walked up behind him and threw her arms around him and whispered, "I don't care what you think, I love you, Chuck Bartowski, with all my heart. This is no cover. This is the real deal. Live with it. I'm not backing down. I will have you, Charles, anyway I can. I'll marry you, I'll live in sin, I'll even quit dying my hair and shaving my legs and sell my Porsche if that's what it takes to convince you, but I will have you. It's only a matter of time. I want the man that Bryce said he wanted to be like when he grew up."

She kissed him on the cheek, giggled as his ears turned red, and then walked slowly over to get her morning caffeine fix.

In as nonchalant a voice as she could muster, she asked him 'Chuck, who's Kappa or Keppa? You kept murmuring it into my hair, baby. Should I be jealous?"

She turned back to the table and pulled out her chair opposite him and acted as if she'd said 'it snowed last night', waiting for his reaction and response.

The blush was gone. He'd turned pale and for a moment she worried he was going to pass out. She reached across the table and took his hand, concern all over her face.

"Chuck, what's wrong? Is it your wound? Is it hurting you? I should have checked it. Damn it! Bathroom, now! I want to see the damned incision. It might be infected or something." Coffee and Kappa forgotten, she pulled him to his feet and started dragging him to the bathroom.

"It's Kappa. I just – did I say anything else, Sarah? Anything at all?"

"No, just something about Kappa and Minsk. Now, bathroom, Chuck. I want to…"

"Sarah, my wound is healed and you can take out the stitches anytime you want. I – I just was surprised, that's all. I don't know where that came from, Kappa, I mean. Sit down and drink your coffee before it gets cold and you freak out from caffeine deprivation." He was deflecting and she knew it.

"Okay, we'll do it the hard way, Bartowski. What is Kappa and why is Minsk so painful a subject for you?" She'd adopted her 'pissed off Agent Walker' persona.

"Need to know, Agent Walker, and you definitely have no need to know. Drink your coffee, Sarah."

"You seem to have a 'need to know' whether you said anything else, Mr. Ex-Secret Agent Man." She deliberately used the name she called him in Quito and he caught the reference and smiled.

"That was a long time ago. A long time ago."

"Minsk or Quito?"

"Either. Both. Your pick-up came on the heels of my disaster in Minsk. I'd been sent back to Ecuador to pop Rivas but when I got there I got a hold order and so I bailed on the Agency's idea of an apartment and got the villa. They sent you and Larkin in to 'evaluate the threat' and he got out and you didn't. I got tasked with terminating you if I couldn't extract you. Obviously I got you out. I quit right after that. They were 'upset' I hadn't 'eliminated' you. That's why I had to make the big deal at the embassy gates."

She sat there, stunned and speechless. The casual reference to having to 'pop Rivas' chilled her. She didn't know this man, not at all.

"So, that's it? Was 'Kappa' your code name? How deep were you, Bartowski, if that's even your real name. Who are you?"

"I'm Chuck Bartowski, graduate of Stanford University, former employee of the CIA, part-time assassin, full-time Nerd Herd supervisor, the intersect host and most recently, target for assassination by Kappa by order of Diane Beckman."

"Wait. _Graduate _of Stanford? You were booted out for cheating. It's in your file. Bryce accused you of…"

"Sarah, finish your coffee and let's take a walk. I think I'm getting cabin fever. You'll want to head back to L.A. later today. Take the truck. I'll call Olympus, I mean Art, and smooth things over between you and the Agency. Bryce will have wheels and I'll go dark, this time permanently. It's okay, Sarah, it'll all work out, you'll see. Everything I need is in the bag and strongbox you brought. Your career won't suffer; hell, it might even be enhanced."

Sarah bolted from the table and into the bedroom, slamming the door and locking it. She fumbled with her cell phone and finally calmed down enough to dial it. She tore through her bag and found her weapon while it was ringing.

"Graham, secure."

"Walker, pretty fucking upset. Who is Kappa, Olympus?"

There was a moment of silence and then laughter. "I knew it. I knew it! Bartowski, that bastard! We never met face to face. He was a Guardian Angel. I knew it! He dumped every damned reference to himself in the computers, everything. There's not a damned thing left in any file. He made it out. Good for him. So what's the damned problem, Agent Walker?"

Now it was her turn to be speechless.

"Wha – wha – "

"Call me back when you calm down. And tell him 'all is forgiven' and we'd really like to reopen negotiations. You two will make a formidable team, Sarah, formidable. Get him to tell you about it all. Tell him Olympus has spoken." There was deep laughter. She tried to interrupt.

"Wha – wha?" All she heard was more laughter follow by 'Goddamn, this shit is like a movie script. The intersect is Kappa. Kappa is the intersect. Holy crap!' then dial tone.

She sat down on the bed and waited for the tears but none came. She waited for the anger and rage to come but it didn't. She waited for…anything, but she felt empty. So many circles within circles, like those Russian dolls with dolls within dolls.

She knew what she had to do. Taking a deep breath and putting her pistol away again she unlocked and opened the door and walked into – an empty kitchen, an empty living room and a missing Bartowski. She pulled on her parka and walked out onto the porch. It was snowing again and the wind was picking up. She walked around the porch to the side and saw that the truck was moving toward the front of the cabin.

Bartowski shut off the truck, jumped down from the cab and handed her the keys.

"The door code is your birthday, I've disconnected the bang-start, and got rid of anything tying the truck to me. You can reconnect the bang-start if you think you need to. Also, there's $50,000 in the spare tire well in shrink-wrap. Buy yourself a new Porsche if you've a mind to."

"That's it? That's everything you want to say to me?" She could feel the tears welling up and she desperately didn't want to cry, not now.

"Yeah, unless you still have unanswered questions pertaining to your mission, that's pretty much it. I do have a favor to ask though."

"What?"

"Don't rat me out for 48 hours, Agent Walker. I don't want to have to use the snowshoes in the barn to hoof it out of here if Larkin's late as usual. Consider it, but do what your conscience tells you to do."

She knocked him on his ass. The spin kick hit him on the side of the head and he went down like a steer in a slaughterhouse and she lost her footing in the snow and fell beside him. She rolled him over and shook him.

"Get up, damn you! We're not through here. Not by a long shot!"

"Chuck? Chuck? Wake up, baby. Oh, crap."

* * *

Chuck woke up but couldn't move. He opened his eyes but sensed he was blindfolded. He really wasn't sure but – nothing seemed to work. He could wiggle his fingers and toes so he knew she hadn't paralyzed him with that damned kung-fu crap of hers so he must be in 5-point restraints and that meant she'd turned him in. So much for declarations of love.

And he had a headache, even worse than the one he got with the downloads. And he was sick to his stomach and desperately trying not to vomit. He'd drown in it and he couldn't think of a worse way to go. He _could_, just didn't want to dwell too much on the negatives.

He heard voices but couldn't understand anything that was being said. Fine. There was no way he was going into a hole in the ground, no way he was doing anything except what he wanted to do. Let them deal with his corpse. Simpler and easier all around.

He pushed his tongue against his wisdom tooth, his _implanted_ wisdom tooth, and tried to maneuver the cap off and suck out the suicide pill inside. All Guardians had one implanted. He'd never considered using it and now when he needed it he couldn't remember the sequence of twists, suction and turns to pop off the dental cap with his tongue but he'd keep trying.

_**A/N: Maybe he should have offered her more than the $50,000?**_


	12. Jill Minsk MiniVans

Chapter9

**_A/N: Please make sure you actually read the words not just skim the dialogue. I am feeling rather subtle this evening so you'll miss things that will answer a lot of questions and save me responding to 'you can't do that…it's not canon' PMs that I'm sure I'll get. Sorry, but I'm not apologizing for the words that bleed from my fingers. AU means Alternate Universe not following the damned script of the show…which sucketh big-time. Season one was the best. So read, comment, don't comment. IDGAS. And I'll send a sneak peek to anyone who can tell me what IDGAS means._**

**_APR_**

**T/N: He sure must have been in a snit when he wrote this. He hasn't watch Chuck since…forever. I gave him the season 2 DVD but he hasn't even opened them. I'll sell them and his damned boat on eBay. NIK.**

* * *

Sarah was beside herself with worry. He'd been unconscious for almost 30 minutes and she was worried about brain damage. She'd wrapped him in blankets like a newborn baby to limit any damage in the event of convulsions. She'd put ice compresses on the site of her heel strike to reduce the swelling.

She'd called Bryce for an update. He was in England and would catch a flight nonstop to L.A. He expected to be at the Unit before nightfall the next day.

She'd parked the truck back in the barn and made coffee and run the dishwasher and checked on him every few minutes but she was running out of things to do and that left crying and she wasn't going to look all puffy-eyed when he did wake up.

She walked into the bedroom and sat beside him on the bed. "Chuck? Chuck? You've been unconscious for enough time, Chuck. I think you need to wake up. You're scaring me and if that's your intent then you're succeeding. Stop this and talk to me."

He'd been conscious for the last 20 minutes or so, assessing his situation and trying like hell to remember the sequence to pop off his false tooth. "I can't move. Let's start with that, shall we?"

She squealed and laughed and then pulled off the compress and looked into his eyes. "Follow my finger, sweetheart, I need to see how bad your concussion is. And you have one. It wasn't my intention but you pissed me off. Now, are you sick, headache, dizzy?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, to all. And I need to throw up now so let me up. And I have to use the facilities. Now, Sarah, not when you damned well feel like it!"

"Hey, cool your jets, ex-special agent assassin. I rolled you up to minimize damage in case you did convulse. Wait a minute. Jesus, impatient? Are you going to be this way once we're married?"

She got him loose from her swaddling and he bolted for the bathroom slamming the door behind him. She heard the sounds of retching and remembered her training. Yep, a concussion. No bright lights, no solid food, no abrupt movement and no stress or excitement.

He came out looking worse than when he went in, sat on the edge of the bed and started to get dressed.

"Chuck, you're not leaving the bed so forget about getting dressed. I'm sorry I hurt you but not a whole lot. You are an arrogant bastard when you want to be. Now lie back and tell me a story. Olympus says all is forgiven, he wants to reopen negotiations, you're to tell me everything without holding anything back and…"

"And what?"

"And we will make a formidable team. That's what he said. So, start at the end. Why did you quit?"

"Fine. Don't blame me if you're disappointed and don't think for one damned minute you won't be able to disguise your disgust.

_**Stanford & Jill; Bryce & Kappa; Minsk**_

**"**_Once upon a time there were two brothers, half-brothers actually, who attended the same university, roomed together, dated the same women, fell in love with the same woman and then went to work for the same company._

"_Chuck, please, don't turn this into a joke. I'm serious. Olympus, I mean Graham, ordered me to find out. So please, baby, don't belittle this with sarcasm."_

"_Fine. But it's easier for me to do it that way."_

"_Why?"_

" _I can pretend it happen to someone else."_

* * *

"I graduated from Stanford. The CIA needed me earlier than the others so I got 'booted out' in order to make their deadline. The school was quite satisfied to award me my BS in Electrical Engineering and in Information Technologies in exchange for a couple of lucrative research grants."

"I'd been dating Jill Roberts since my junior year. I was crazy in love and I never noticed, wouldn't have suspected, and couldn't believe it when I caught her doing the nasty with Bryce in _my_ bed!"

"Wait, I'm doing this wrong. Let me think. Wrong order." He rubbed his aching head and Sarah pulled him down from his sitting position and made him lie down and then she put her arms around him.

* * *

He started over after thinking about it for a few minutes. Sarah sighed with impatience and then settled in against him and waited. You could not hurry the glacier down the mountain.

"I was approached by Olympus in 2001 and 'invited' to apply for a full ride scholarship. All I had to do was take some simple tests, sit through some experiments in image transfers and retention and I would qualify. It was a no-brainer. I needed money and they had it."

"Olympus also invited Jill Roberts, Bryce and the girl he was dating, Lia Jeffords, to sit for the same exams and experiments. There were 3 others but we didn't know about them until I got to the Farm and then on the 'North Forty'."

"It was all a cover for recruitment into the Omaha Project and then the Guardians. We all passed, got our full boat scholarships, and from then on we did 'work' for Olympus on campus and each month we had a weekend of training. Every school vacation was spent training. All we seemed to do was train, train, train but it was interesting and the four of us became great friends. Bryce hooked up with Lia permanently and I, of course, had Jill."

"Both Bryce and Jill had missed a training session and regular classes with the flu for the previous four days and I took them over a light lunch one afternoon. Lia and I had finished a course on weapons and we wanted to see about celebrating."

"I went to our apartment and caught my brother with his face buried in Jill's crotch. That was it. My grades cratered, my performance suffered and Olympus was making noises about 'pulling my ticket' so I offered to go full-time if he could square it with the school and get me my diploma. He did, they did and I went to the Farm."

"There was a special program within the Omaha Project and we had all been recruited for it. I went through the training first, and then the other three graduated from Stanford. I worked a few solo missions while they caught up with me in their training."

"I got cocky on a simple sneak & peak and the opposition caught me and kept me busy for a day or two until they made a mistake and I escaped. I spent a couple weeks in the hospital while they rebuilt my hands and did some cosmetic stuff to my face. Those guys had not been nice."

"I spent time in rehab in Virginia and then the others graduated. We got set up in teams, Jill & I and Bryce and Lia. I objected to being paired with Jill but the assignments were based on compatibility and profiles. We weren't given choices."

"Jill and I were based in Buenos Aires, Argentina and Bryce and Lia went to Austria. Mostly we just sat around waiting to be tasked but sometimes we were given basic intel ops in South America and then we started the occasional 'Guardian' mission, like freeing hostages held by insurgents, mostly in Colombia but soon in Peru and Ecuador as movements developed."

"Actually, we never sat around. Our cover was of a freelance fashion photographer and model. It gave us freedom of movement. One or the both of us would be meeting with various intel sources throughout South America. It was usually the both of us but when Jill met with a source or potential source alone I was in overwatch position. We avoided quite a few problems and I became quite adept at using the Barrett rifle."

"Lia and Bryce had gotten together again. I know how 'persuasive' my brother can be. Jill and I, well, no, never again. There was tremendous resentment on my part and Jill was pining for Bryce. About six months later we were advised that Delta was dead, captured and executed in Chechnya, and Jill started politicking Olympus for reassignment and she got it."

"My cover job had cratered without Jill and I was relocated to Bogotá, Colombia, as a free-lance journalist for a tech magazine where I did mostly intel gathering with the DEA and other agencies. It was almost purely narco-terrorism work. Others had picked up our assets and network after Jill left."

"I ran into Carina Hansen there but didn't actually 'meet' her and that worked out fine because later on in Burbank…well, you know how that might have gone down."

"Bryce and I had buried the hatchet on an R&R in Capri. I told you he was very persuasive. There were rumors of leftover nuke caches being held by Byelorussia and Ukrainian army units and parts of warheads began appearing in arms markets around the world. Jill and Bryce were supposed to investigate and determine the number and location of any weapons actually in their hands. I got sent in as backup for the operation along with the four other Guardians, Sigma, Beta, Lambda and Tau. Olympus wanted a 'maximum effort'."

"Bryce and Jill got burned by one of their assets and were swept up in a 'counter-terrorism' operation and were being held and interrogated at the very base outside Minsk we'd been tasked to find. Irony. Somehow Bryce escaped, reported his findings and then went back to DC. There was no word on Jill and Olympus sent me and Sigma in to locate and retrieve her. An asset told us she'd been transferred to a prison in Minsk and we did a quick in and out but Sigma said it was impossible."

"Beta and Tau had some bad luck. They were trying to turn some staff and gain access to computer records when they were nailed. There bodies were never recovered. Lambda just disappeared, vanished. No one ever heard from her again. Olympus was on us now to roll it up and get out."

"Olympus knew my feelings for Jill and had told Sigma that if we couldn't extract her, he was to terminate her – and me, if I 'got in the way of his mission'."

"Long story short, we went in, found her, couldn't figure out a way to get her out and Sigma told me to go home. He had orders and I didn't need to be involved. Sigma never made his rendezvous with the asset we'd co-opted to find Jill. I did. I got her out but Sigma…tried to sanction her anyway but… failed. I got her out, we holed up for a while so she could rebuild her strength, traveled for a few weeks and finally resurfaced in Poland."

"I got Jill into friendly hands, Sigma got the Intelligence Star and a headstone in Arlington and I got sent back to South America. Jill ultimately walked again but…but she'd told me about the torture and that Bryce had abandoned her and escaped. He left her there because the intel was critical. She said he'd walked right by her in a stolen uniform and didn't even acknowledge her."

"We all knew we were expendable but…not to me. Now I knew what had happened to Delta – Lia. And Jill. Notice a pattern yet, Agent Walker?"

"I was ready to get out. I knew that if one of us was sloppy or just had bad luck and were captured we would be eliminated. It wasn't that we knew info that was valuable, it was simply because we were embarrassments to the government. Dead agents were bodies, not embarrassments. That wasn't what I'd signed on for and I never left one of my 'temporary' partners behind."

"Eight months later I pulled a high-profile termination in Ecuador but got a 'hold' order. The rest you know. I disappeared after dumping you at the embassy. I'd activated a modified viral logic bomb coded into some intel I'd submitted and any and every record of Chuck Bartowski was purged. The Guardians who knew me were dead. I was just another agent who'd fallen through the cracks. But I was free."

"And then I got an email from Bryce…and that brings us up to today."

"I think you left out a hell of a lot, Chuck, but we can pick apart the bones later. Now, tell me about Kappa and what you did after you quit the Agency. There's a lot of 'missing time' in your narrative, sweetheart, and you owe me the whole story."

"Sarah, I'm really tired and this damned heel-sized headache is back with a vengeance. I'd like to catch some Zs and if you still want to know, I'll tell you after I wake up."

"I'll still want to know. Now, sleep. I'll wake you up in a bit and we'll see how you're doing. If you feel well enough, we'll continue. Otherwise, well, it's been your deep, dark secret for all these years; a few more hours won't matter. I love you, Chuck."

"Not for long."

Her eyes narrowed and her lips narrowed. "Listen up, Mr. Ex-Secret Agent Man, I decide who I love and don't love and I've made my final choice in life. I want the house, the picket fence, the kids, the dog, the mini-van and I want to have them only with you. Understand me, you arrogant…" She shut herself up by kissing him.

When she was sure she had her temper under control she slipped under the covers and held on to him. "Baby, nothing you've done will make me feel any different towards you. Now, wrap me up in your arms like you did last night and let's see what the future brings us, together.'

He sighed and she took it wrong. They hadn't been in enough 'close contact' situation to know each other's tells. He was thinking about Sarah in a mini-van with kids in the back seat and a big dog in the rear cargo area. It was something he'd never been able to imagine. His was a sigh of longing; of wishing something so wonderful could come true.

"God damn you, Bartowski. Get it through your thick Polish skull that I love you, have for some time, that I am afraid I'll lose you to the damned job and I'm seriously thinking about quitting the damned CIA and keeping you in bed until I'm good and knocked up and you fucking _HAVE_ to marry me!"

"No."

"No? NO? What do you mean, 'No'? You have to love me, Chuck, you have to. Please…"

"No. No mini-van. A Suburban, yeah, but no damned soccer-mom mini-van. That's just so not…my image of Sarah Walker Bartowski."


	13. Alien Sarah takes Chuck

Chapter10

T/N: All you perverts out there, here's the 'Chuck & Sarah do the nasty' but he definitely made it PG. Boo.  
Nik

* * *

Sarah was lying beside a now dozing Chuck mulling over the ends of the conversation. Despite her best intentions, she'd fallen asleep and it'd been 6 hours of rest they'd both needed.

She'd been desperate to convince him of the sincerity of her feelings and his '_…that's just so not…my image of Sarah Walker Bartowski', _had set her mind reeling. He could be so damned obtuse at times. So, he had an image of her married to him? Good. She needed to cultivate it. She wanted the dream life and she wanted to make it and share it with her…husband? Yeah, definitely.

She started thinking about Las Vegas. They could be there in 6 hours. They could get married in another hour and then get a room somewhere with a huge bed and room service and a hot tub and … no. Someone was after them. Someone was trying to kill her future. Someone…

"Chuck? Chuck! Wake up, sweetie. I have questions. Chuck, I need you!"

He awakened with a start. He looked around for any danger. "Sarah, what's wrong?"

"You started telling me who you were, and we got off the subject. Stop and think. You said you were Chuck Bartowski, and you were the 'target for assassination by Kappa by order of Diane Beckman'. Chuck, you're Kappa! Is there more than one of you? How can you kill yourself?"

"Well, it's complicated…" he started but stopped when Sarah suddenly reached down under the covers and slipped her hand down his sleep pants and grabbed him and squeezed hard to get his attention.

"If the next words out of your mouth are 'need to know', I'm going to deprive myself of incredible future joy and rip you balls off! Tell me about Kappa and about how you could accept a contract on yourself! And is Beckman Fulcrum?"

He could hardly breathe. "Y'know, you really …have to get a handle… on your temper, Walker, before …someone does something really… nasty to you. Like this!" His eyes darkened for a moment and he crossed his middle finger over his index finger and jabbed her in the inside of the arm near the elbow.

Someone had dipped her hand in fire! She jerked her hand back and looked at it. Her arm was still throbbing and the feeling in her hand was stinging pins and needles.

"Sarah, you have issues with that temper of yours. You punched me in Quito because you were frightened. You almost brained me here because you were angry and now you want answers and were going to inflict pain again. Sense a trend here, Agent Walker? Now, give me your hand and don't ever, and I mean _ever,_ do something like that to me again. I simply will not tolerate an abusive spouse."

He waited for his terse comments to sink in through the ersatz blonde curls and in the meantime he massaged the nerve ganglion in her wrist.

She moaned and then flexed her fingers. "How?" The pain was gone but the message had been received loud and clear.

" Nerve strike. Learned it in advanced unarmed combat at the North Forty. I don't use it normally but you were hurting me and didn't seem to care. Your mission focus is admirable but your methods suck. I meant what I said."

"The bitch in the elevator, Eva Mardis, you used something like that on her?"

"Yeah, only a lot harder and with malicious intent. She'd stabbed me and you and Casey were in danger from Vasco's thugs who were after you. So, yeah, I hit her in the neck. Dropped her like a bad habit. I was afraid they'd hurt you, Sarah but I just didn't have the strength to move."

He continued massaging her hand as he spoke.

"Now, I am Kappa. I will demonstrate how I handled Beckman after you look at a file recording of her 'engagement' negotiations. You can make up your own mind about right and wrong; you won't be able to resist despite all your promises."

He got out of bed, went to his bag and pulled out a flash drive and a laptop. He booted it up and then handed it to her. "Page down the file listing and select '' and play it. I'm going to get a cup of coffee. We'll talk about this and the rest of my identity issues when you're ready."

He looked at her and shook his head. She was totally unpredictable in stressful situations and she was a hammer and every problem became a nail. He took one more thing from his bag and then went to make coffee and give here the privacy she denied him.

* * *

The coffee was brewing and he took Sarah's cell phone and called John Casey.

"_Casey, secure. Where the hell are you Walker? Beckman issued a sanction on you and your boytoy and I'm on suspension. You should have let me fry the imposter's brain, Walker. Now you're playing hide the salami with a traitor and I'm on my way to retirement in Leavenworth. Thanks bunches."_

"Shut up and listen, Casey. Beckman sold Chuck out. She said he was Fulcrum and so were you. She said Larkin had confirmed that Chuck had been recruited and you were a traitor. I've seen the recording. It's true. Come to Unit 4 tomorrow. Come alone. Anyone follows you and you're the first to die. Be here between 10am and noon. Any later and we'll be gone. It's been snowing so allow for poor road conditions." He ended the conversation with the GPS coordinates of a clearing off the old road about a mile away.

He hung up Sarah's phone and took off the voice alteration device and poured his coffee.

* * *

He sat with his back to the bedroom door and couldn't see his handler/girlfriend standing there. She'd been on her way out to ask some questions when she heard what sounded like herself speaking to John Casey. Her mouth was opening and closing but nothing came out. Finally she summoned up her courage and did what she had to do.

She walked up behind him and put her arms around his neck and nestled her cheek against his and sighed.

"Why have you been acting like such a wimp limp dick? Why have you allowed Casey and I to treat you like some redheaded idiot stepchild? I feel ashamed, Chuck, and I don't like it one bit. I feel like you've played us and I don't like that, either. Why, Chuck, why?"

"Protective coloration. No one but Ellie knows the truth. Well, Bryce knows but that's for professional reasons. Ellie knows because she's had to live with me and my moods, attitudes and 'indifference'. I owed it to her for a lot of reasons but mostly I just wanted one other person, someone I could trust, to know that I was better than I appeared, that I hadn't failed at Stanford and that I wasn't a damned loser."

"That I can understand. I have Carina I vent to. But then Ellie knows about the intersect? About me and Casey?"

"No. That's definitely not something I'd share. I would never put her in that kind of danger. She helped me maintain my cover, my sanity and my self-confidence, that's all. She doesn't know a thing about the damned intersect and that's not going to change."

She hugged him harder and pressed a kiss against his cheek. "Nothing's changed my feelings for you, sweetheart, and I doubt anything could. You know we're going to have to expose Beckman as a traitor somehow. Any ideas?"

"Yeah, a few. I'm waiting for Casey and Bryce, though. We'll decide as a group since we're all in trouble now."

"Ah, Chuck? What's the deal with Kappa and Beckman? I sense…that Beckman has an interest in Kappa that's personal as opposed to professional. Meeting in Bermuda? She practically licked her lips in anticipation."

"She thinks Kappa's a, well, a Lesbian. And Beckman's been in the closet for years and…I just played her against herself. Hell, I don't care which team she bats for, that's her business. I was simply setting her up to kill her after 'Bartowski died'."

"So everyone thinks Kappa's a woman? That's pretty cool. No one will look at you, for example, if they think Kappa's a woman."

"No, of course not everyone thinks Kappa's a woman. Some cultures won't deal with a woman in a position of power and some of the current people in authority in the West still think women belong barefoot and pregnant so I profile them and use whatever persona I think they'll relate to. It _is_ purely business, Sarah."

She ran her tongue around his ear and giggled when he shivered. "Chuck, Larkin won't be here until late tonight or early tomorrow and Casey won't be here until tomorrow and we have a bed that's warm and comfy and just crying out to be used. I want you now, Chuck Bartowski, Ex-Secret Agent Man. I've waited for you forever, it seems. Let's go back to bed and you can demonstrate your 'undercover talents'."

He choked on his coffee and then allowed her to pull him up and lead him back to the bedroom. She ran ahead of him, pulling off clothes.

Sarah was already in bed and was holding her arms out to him. "C'mon, Chuck, please. Don't make me beg. We love each other and there's no reason not to let it become physical. You have no idea how long and how much I've wanted this but I knew you'd think I was just working the cover for compliance. Now please…"

He slipped in beside her and took her in his arms. He whispered that he loved Sarah Ashlynn Dulles as much if not more than he loved Sarah Walker. The first kiss was tentative and hesitant. It was almost chaste.

He ran his hand down her arm then slowly down her side and cupped one ass cheek and pulled her closer to him. She began to giggle and whispered that if he called her 'Ashlynn' in public she'd cut him off for a week but that in the privacy of his arms he could call her anything as long as it was 'mine'.

"Sarah, you talk too much. Actions, not words. Now, shut up and let me have my heart's desire, Sarah, you talk too much." His kiss was anything but chaste the second time. All the longing he'd had for this woman was dumped into his hungry and demanding kiss.

Some time later she woke and stretched and rolled over to wake him for another demonstration of his 'undercover' talents but the bed was empty and cold. She felt the sweet ache of muscles that hadn't been used in a long time and she wanted him again. Throwing on a t-shirt she padded out to the kitchen in search of her…they'd work on a proper term or title. Hopefully she could convince him to opt for the Vegas gambit. Now that she had him, she was never letting him go. She'd have her 'happily ever after' with the man of her dreams, and she would kill anyone who tried to harm her dream.

While Sarah slept, Chuck had found and modified some sheets and a pillow case into a sniper cover for winter weather. He'd also pulled out the Barrett .50 rifle from under the back seat of the crew cab and was attaching the scope when Sarah, looking freshly-ravished and glowing with happiness, found him.

"Chuck, what's the deal with the artillery? What's going on in that head of yours?" She'd once again thrown her arms around his neck and nibbled at his ear. She knew he could feel her tight and hard nipples pressing into his back. She wanted him again. He could fool around with his toys later. She wanted him to fool around with _her_.

"Just getting ready for company. Bryce is overdue and I don't like it at all. His time sense sucks, always has. I just want to make sure he's playing the game by my rules, that's all. "

"I'll call Bryce. He should be in L.A. by now. Maybe the weather's delayed him?"

"Go ahead. Just be careful what you say. He's my brother but an unknown quantity in this equation. Casey's more predictable. Art's money's on us because of Kappa and the intersect. Plus, he knows he can bring Beckman and a big chunk of Fulcrum down with what we have to offer. So we have four players on our playing field operating under their own rules. We just need to be sure they understand that our game is played by our rules, that's all."

"And the cannon?"

"The Barrett is for tomorrow in case Casey's been turned or followed. It's the umpire, field judge and linesman, all rolled up into one."

* * *

Sarah went to the bedroom to find her phone and call Bryce. She put it on speaker since she was multitasking. She was sorting through her various ID packages for a married one.

"_Larkin, secure."_

"Walker, secure. Where the hell are you?"

"_About 3 hours away. All I could rent was a damned Chevy and it doesn't have snow tires so I'm slipping and sliding my way back to you, babe."_ He sang the last phrase. Frankie Vallee and the Four Seasons did it way better.

"Cut the crap, Larkin. I'm with Chuck. Get used to it. I'm going to marry him if he'll have me and get out of this damned racket and start popping out batches of little Bartowskis. Now, watch your ass but get here. Park behind the cabin. There's a barn. Park beside the truck."

Sarah disconnected, disgusted with her former partner.

"Asshole."

She'd definitely have to have words with Larkin. Brother or no brother, he'd better keep his hands to himself or he'd be wearing them around his neck on a string. She was no one's 'babe' but Chuck's. She stopped, thought about what she'd just thought, wondered where the woman who'd come to Burbank to evaluate and terminate a mark had gone? Wherever it was, she hoped she stayed there.

She turned and there was Chuck, leaning against the doorframe with a grin from ear to ear. "What? What's the grin for?"

"…popping out _batches_ of little Bartowskis, Agent Walker?" He walked up to her and took the cell phone from her hand and threw it on the bed. Sarah looked up into suddenly very dark brown eyes and shivered. "Well, one at a time but yeah, lots of little Bartowskis."

"No."

"No?" she practically wailed.

"Nope. Two. A girl first, then a boy and then that's it. Let Ellie worry about population growth. Two is enough. And maybe only one if the first is a girl who's as beautiful as her mom is."

She morphed into one of those face-huggers from the movie Alien, attached herself to his mouth, shoved her tongue down his throat and wrapped her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. Pulled off balance, he staggered to the bed and they fell together. She ended the kiss and said 'too many clothes, Chuck' and then 'I'm already so wet don't wait I need it – you – now' and finally it was quiet for quite a while except for a few giggles and chuckles, moans, whimpers and one long and high-pitched 'Chuck' followed seconds later by a deeper but equally heart-felt 'Oh, Sarah!' Mutual sighing, then "I love you, Sarah Ashlynn Dulles, on top of, beneath, in between, with or without covers…"

His headache had mysteriously vanished.

A/N: Not drunk enough to write hot monkey sex.  
APR


	14. Interlude Casey vs Anna Wu

Interlude 1

T/N: This goes with the previous chapter, as if you couldn't figure that out. No more until Tuesday. My guy is taking me away for the weekend to Grand Isle

Nik

* * *

**Buy More**

Anna Wu noticed everything about John Casey. The way he moved, the way he talked, the way he interacted with her mark. There was no doubt about it. Ann Wu was fast falling for the big bluffer, for that's what he was, a big bluffer. She saw the way his eyes softened when her mark spoke to him, how he bullied him in return and when her mark wasn't looking he'd sometimes, not often, but sometimes smile.

She knew that Chuck was some sort of intelligence operative and that his girlfriend, an agent herself, was his partner and that Casey was the muscle of their team. Chuck was so obviously the brains and Walker, the foil, the lotus blossum, for many of their operations.

Her Director had been very clear about her mission: locate and protect one Charles Irving Bartowski, from his enemies and even his own government if necessary. He'd alluded to 'orders from on high' and further stated that she was to establish a romantic relationship if she felt it proper. She had dropped that idea the first time Sarah Walker had appeared on the scene.

Her mark had obviously recognized Walker from someplace but hid it well, becoming the bumbling nerd persona he'd so carefully perfected and presented to the world. He'd dropped the phone he was on when she came to the Nerd Herd counter.

She'd read his file, studied his missions and knew he was anything but bumbling. Even though their two countries were 'allies' they both actively spied one upon the other. It was the way of nation states. The files she'd read had been painstakingly rebuilt after an 'accident' had wiped them out. Some accident. Her mark did nothing by 'accident'.

So it was, when Casey and Chuck disappeared and when the Orange Orange remained closed for business that she became concerned. None of them returned to their operational base below the store and Chuck's sister did not know where he'd gone only that he was with his girlfriend.

Anna quickly blew Morgan off, wishing for the nth time that a display case would fall on him or that a big screen plasma TV would crash down upon him or, her personal favorite, that John Casey would see how annoyed she was with his attentions and drag Morgan Grimes to the loading dock by his beard and feed him slowly into the paper baler for eventual pickup, shredding and recycling. She was very much the eco-freak.

Shaking off her musings she watched the video feed of one of several mini-cams she'd planted in the places frequented by her mark. She watched as Casey dragged a groggy Chuck down into their operational base followed closely by a distracted and distraught-looking Sarah Walker. She forwarded the feed until the motion detectors activated again and watched as Sarah Walker dragged/carried her mark to her Porsche and sped away.

Concerned for the physical condition of her mark, she broke cover and gained entry into their operational base, shaking her head at the relative ease of entry. She defeated the retina scanner by simply disconnecting it.

* * *

**Castle**

She found John Casey lying face down in an interrogation room, three tranquilizer darts sticking up out of his back. The room itself smelled of fear and sweat. There was a hand-crank generator she was quite familiar with lying on the floor and she saw that Casey had been wearing rubber gloves. Add Chuck being helped by Sarah Walker into her car and she had an idea of what had happened.

Anna dragged Casey to a bunk, tied his hands and feet with zip ties and then scrounged around for a first aid kit. She sat back to wait for the big bluffer to wake up. To amuse herself while she waited, she opened up every drawer, file cabinet and locker but found nothing unfamiliar. She heard a groan and someone rolled off the bunk and onto the concrete floor and she grinned. He'd begun the 'softening up' process on his own.

She knew from experience that he'd sleep at least 24 more hours. Sighing, she secured the facility and went back to her apartment. She had preparations to make and a mark to find. If Major Casey proved…reluctant to discuss the whereabouts of the mark, he'd find himself on the wrong end of that generator.

**Castle  
****18 hours later**

Ann Wu reentered the facility and reactivated the defenses. She'd called in to Lester to request a sick day for 'female problems' and a flustered Lester had quickly told her 'fine, take the rest of the week off'.

She checked on her big bluffer, gathered several water bottles and made coffee because she knew he'd wake up with a horrible headache and a thirst to match. Almost OD'ing on trank darts tended to do that.

Casey pulled himself into some semblance of awareness and fought to shake off the mental cobwebs. Walker had tranqued him and taken off with their prisoner. Her girly feelings had overridden her training and she was probably in another country by now. He started to get up, overbalanced himself and ended up on his face on the concrete floor once again. He heard a giggle. Walker did not giggle.

"Who's there? You're trespassing in a government installation. Show yourself. If you cooperate, things will be easier for you."

"Things are already easy for me, Major John Casey, NSA. It's you who appear to be having a hard time of things," a familiar voice answered. Again the giggle.

He rolled over on his side and looked up…the skirt of Anna Wu, Nerd Herder.

"Anna?"

She giggled again. "And today of all days I decided to wear panties…" There was that delightful giggle again that he found so distracting.

His cell phone chirped and the giggling girl was gone, replaced by a stone-faced woman who was all business. "I'm going to let you answer that, Major Casey, since I have a vested interest in knowing what you know. It's going to be on speaker, so no silly codes or safety phrases, please. I'll shoot you in the knees if you give away your…situation."

She pushed him onto his back and retrieved his cell phone from his shirt pocked and flipped it open, holding it in front of his face. "It appears that Agent Sarah Walker wishes to converse. Remember your kneecaps, Major…" She connected the call.

"Casey, secure. Where the hell are you Walker? Beckman issued a sanction on you and your boytoy and I'm on suspension. You should have let me fry the imposter's brain, Walker. Now you're playing hide the salami with a traitor and I'm on my way to retirement in Leavenworth. Thanks bunches."

"_Shut up and listen, Casey. Beckman sold Chuck out. She said he was Fulcrum and so were you. She said Larkin had confirmed that Chuck had been recruited and you were a traitor. I've seen the recording. It's true. Come to Unit 4 tomorrow. Come alone. Anyone follows you and you're the first to die. Be here between 10am and noon. Any later and we'll be gone." _

"I hope you remembered the damned coordinates, Wu. You're too beautiful a distraction and I might be a bit confused at the moment."

She was surprised by his comment. He was too thick to be subtle so that probably meant he was serious.

"Yes. One of the Doomsday installations your government still maintains. It's in the mountains so I hope you have good tires on that antiquated polluter you drive."

"Ah, crap. You're one of those damned granola-eating-tree-hugging-long-haired-hippie-freaks, aren't ya?" Casey hated eco-yuppies with a passion.

"Yes and no. I hate granola, I'd rather hug you but I do drive a Prius and I am concerned for the environment. Live with it, John. The benefits will far outweigh those few differences we might have." She smiled and he grunted.

"See? We already have that in common. Now, I am going to cut you loose and then we will make a plan, pack our shit and go join Chuck and his Blonde Bimbo Barbie. I hope you have room for my weapons load in that polluter of yours. I believe that Right will always triumph if we maintain overwhelming fire superiority."

Casey almost had an orgasm.

_**A/N: Sorry, ladies, but Casey's gonna get some. I felt guilty for killing him off so early in my Girl saga and in another one I've been toying with, so he's been reincarnated as the sex interest for Anna Wu who I always thought would never ever stoop to Morgan's level. Not even if she were deaf, dumb, blind, a quadriplegic, and terminally horny.**_


	15. And you too Brutus

Chapter11

T/N: This is not the final chapter. I think there's one more. I'm sure I saw it. Anyhow, here this one for you all to read and review. Poor showing last time. I thought it was interesting but then I'm marrying him so I have to like his stuff, right? LOL. Nik

* * *

"Sarah, as much as I would love to spend the rest of the evening spooning, Bryce will be here any time now and I don't want to throw this in his face. It's too new and I'm still very insecure. I know, I know, but remember, I know the Seduction School curricula as well as you do. Now up and at 'em."

She was thoroughly enjoying the feeling of security, warmth and love that being wrapped up in Chuck brought. The fluttering in her stomach each time he traced a line across her lower abdomen with his gentle fingers and his warm breath on her neck were pure torture but she wouldn't move for anything.

"No. Don't wanna. I'm where I want to be although being spooned makes it difficult to run my fingers through your hair, and kiss you, and do other things I haven't even imagined yet. Let him freeze in the dark."

He whispered something in her ear and she suddenly stiffened and then threw back the covers and began to dress.

"You better not be playing me, Chuck. I mean it. Don't you dare say that to me and not mean it."

"Cross my heart and hope to…muph" She kissed him and then ran her fingers through his hair and brought her face close to his. She wanted to see his eyes. Chuck Bartowski never lied and if he strayed at all from the truth she'd see it in his eyes. His eyes were the windows to his soul.

"Sweetheart, don't finish that sentence. We've both lived through things we shouldn't have - so please, don't tempt Fate."

"Fine, but I'm warning you, I meant what I said. It's our time now, Sarah. And I don't want to waste a single precious moment of whatever time we are allowed." His brown eyes turned almost black and she shivered when she remembered the last time they'd darkened.

* * *

Larkin called an hour later.

"Walker, secure."

"Larkin, secure. I need help. I'm off the road about two miles from the target coordinates. Damned weather. Can someone come and fetch me, please?"

Sarah laughed. He sounded so pathetic. Had he always whined like that? She couldn't remember. She wondered again just what it was she saw in Bryce Larkin to have allowed her to become engaged knowing what a con artist he was.

And then she knew. He was her father with a lot more education and physical skills, but he was a con man who used his powers of persuasion to get what he wanted – just like her father. She shuddered when she thought about how close they'd come to actually getting married. Gack!

"Sure. I'll have…" He interrupted her.

"Is Chuck there? I need to ask him something."

"Yeah, wait one." She handed the phone to Chuck who just rolled his eyes.

"Hey, if you have a truck we can tow this piece of crap out of the ditch and we'll have back up transportation, Krep'klath."

Chuck was silent for one second. 'Krep'klath' was Klingon for trap.

"Yeah, Larkin, but it'll take me at least an hour to dig it out. The drifts up on the barn door are pretty deep. Give me at least 45 minutes. I'll get Sarah to help me, OK?"

"I wish there were a half dozen of you, then you'd be here in 10 minutes. But that'll have to do, Plat'tlu." Blood flow.

Chuck laughed. "Stay warm." He flipped the phone closed and ran back to the bedroom. "Sarah, Bryce is in trouble. There are six bad guys and he's hurt. They must have followed him and run him off the road. Give me 30 minutes and then drive the truck down the road with all lights blazing and stop it as soon as you can make out his car. Do not leave the truck, sweetheart. I'll need you to put the truck between Bryce and I and any shooters that are left. You're the alpine driver in the family. I can't do it."

To her credit, she didn't object. She had every intention of doing exactly what she'd been asked. She knew the truck had bullet-resistant glass and knew Chuck figured he'd need an armored barrier between him and the shooters when he pulled Bryce out.

"Chuck, why aren't they hitting us here?"

"They don't know where we are. Bryce's GPS coordinates are off by about 400 yards on the cut off road. You input them but kept driving until you saw the fire lane. They don't know that. Now, I've got some stuff in the truck I need to get. I'll see you in about 45 minutes." She nodded, not willing to say anything to distract him from his mission.

"If…if things go wrong, take care of Bryce for me and if we're both gone, take the truck and keep on going back to L.A. You have 100 gallons of diesel in armored tanks so no problem with gas. You'll find my account numbers and passwords on a flash drive underneath the passenger airbag. Now, I will see you later, understand?"

He pulled on the snow smock he'd made out of sheets and the pillowcase over his head. He'd need every advantage he could get.

"Yeah. And I'm holding you to that promise you made me, Chuck. I love you. Now, get out of here and save my future brother-in-law." She would not cry or make a scene. She'd do that later in the privacy, comfort and safety of his arms.

* * *

Chuck runs back to the barn, pulls the truck out in front of the cabin and pulls out another bag from under the rear seat. He's taken the snowshoes from the barn and runs through the trees parallel to the road until he figures he's well past Bryce's location. He's short of breath from the run. _I need to work on that, someplace warm like Fiji or St. Bart's._

Dropping the bag off his shoulder, he pulls off the pillowcase and puts on his night vision eyepieces and puts the pillowcase back on. He ties it off and begins his silent search of the nearby woods, snowshoes enabling him to move quietly. He spots the enemy's SUV idling about 200 yards down the road from where he figured Bryce's car would be. There are 2 shooters. He's run past them but had been far enough away not to be heard.

They have to be eliminated.

He goes through a quick series of breathing exercises to calm and center himself then slowly picks his way through the snow-covered underbrush until he is less than 5 yards away. The thug on the right is talking into a cell or talkie and the other is taking a leak against a tree a few yards from where he stands.

When the thug ends his conversation he turns to his where his partner has gone and says something witty about 'yellow snow' and he hears the laughing response. The guy's bent over messing with his fly and Chuck covers his mouth with one hand and drives the Gerber into his kidney and then deep into the back of his neck, severing the spinal cord. He lowers the body to the ground and advances on the other shooter whose back is turned into the wind, trying to light a cigarette. Chuck attacks when he straightens up.

"Cigarettes are bad for your health." The guy looks up, startled and Chuck takes him out with a knife thrust to the heart. "See, told ya."

He opens the SUV door and turns the engine off, pocketing the keys. No sense overlooking the gift of additional transportation.

Two down, four to go. He figures one would be with Bryce and the other three would be off the road in the trees in an ambush. He takes the dead men's wallets, cell phones and weapons and throws them in his duffel and slings it back over his shoulder. Idiots weren't even using standard weapons.

He walks back into the tree line and then walks slowly to the ambush site looking for any signs of the other shooters. He can see Bryce's car in the ditch. The rear taillights and trunk were smashed in by the collision with the SUV. He can see someone in the vehicle but can't tell if it's Bryce or not.

He hears fabric move against fabric and it's very close. He freezes knowing that movement in limited light attracts the eye, even white against white. He strains his hearing, listening for the telltale sound to repeat itself. He swears he can hear the rush of blood through his veins and the loud and noisy beating of his heart and the loud rushing of air in and out of his lungs. He holds his position for 30 seconds, then a minute, and then another. There it is again…behind him!

He turns and catches the glint of light on steel and the knife slices down into his chest but the blade hangs up on the Kevlar vest and Chuck's is unencumbered as it plunges deep into his attackers throat. He hugs the body to him and lowers it to the ground ignoring the warm blood spurting out on his hands, face and sheet. Time to worry about cleanliness later. He has to find the other two shooters.

The big 4X4 comes roaring over the crest of the hill and slides to a stop. The light is unexpected and he tears off the night vision goggles and rubs his eyes. He hunkers down for a few precious seconds letting his eyes adjust to the sudden light. _I did tell her 'lights blazing'. I forgot about the Kimble light bar. Getting too old for this shit. Making stupid mistakes._

The remaining three attackers break cover and start running up the road to the big truck but Sarah has other ideas and the truck starts moving down the hill, picking up speed. She's rolled down the side window and is firing her 9mm at the shooters who are momentarily blinded by the lights. She takes out two and Chuck finally sees something other then glowing afterimages and takes out the remaining shooter. That's all six.

He walks out into the center of the snow covered road and waves to Sarah to bring the truck down. He turns and walks over to Bryce's car and pries open the driver's side door and pulls Bryce out of the car and drags him to the truck. Sarah's out of the truck and helping him in seconds. He's been tranqued. The dart is still hanging, caught in his coat.

"Sarah, get in the truck and close the door and lock it. Bryce is OK but there's one more out here. None of these apes were carrying a trank gun."

"Chuck, I…OK, I understand." She doesn't but the look he gives her sends her scurrying back to the truck.

"Why, Bryce? Why? I mean, shit, we're brothers. I'd give you anything you wanted if I had it, you know that. Why did you betray me?"

The first round hits him in the stomach, the next in the chest. He stumbles backwards and falls over the snowshoes against the front wheel. The breath has been knocked out of him and he's bitten his lip and the inside of his mouth causing blood to run out the side of his mouth. Bryce gets on his knees and points the pistol at his brother.

"Chuck, you had it all. You didn't need Sarah, I did and I still do. I love her and she loves me, or did until you had to foul it up in Quito. But now she'll see how I'm the better man and that I'd kill my own brother for her as proof of my love for her."

"W – why – send – me the damned - intersect?"

"You were the best man I could think of, brother. I just didn't figure on Sarah being assigned as your handler and falling for you - again. She's mine and always has been. We're a team and you're just a passing fancy now. You're bleeding out and when you're dead, she'll see the depth of my love as I console her. In a few months, you'll be a bump in the road, Chuck, a distant and fading memory in her life. I'll be there to fill the void, just like it should have been from the beginning."

"Bryce?"

He looks up and sees Sarah Walker, pistol in hand. He smiles and reaches out his hand to her and she fires twice hitting him in the forehead both times.


	16. Funeral Pyres and Surprise Guest

Chapter12

_T/N: Oh bitterness thy name is APR. Live with it.  
_Nik.

* * *

**Sarah's POV**

OhGodohGodohGodohGod…

I kneel down beside him processing the situation in background as my agency training and experience take over. Bleeding from the mouth, unable to catch his breath, fists opening and closing, his eyes wide open and staring at his brother's body, sudden gasping... a lung for sure plus abdominal injuries. My damned experience and training kick in and evaluate his chances of survival: NONE.

I fumble under my parka and pull out a sharp little blade and slit the bloody smock open.

A vest. He's wearing a Kevlar vest. If the situation wasn't so tragic I think I might have broken down and laughed and smiled and thanked God he'd worn a vest. I thank Him anyway.

"Chuck, baby, take deep breaths, I need to take this off, sweetie, and make sure there's no penetration. Help me out, Chuck. Were you hit anywhere else?"

I need to know. He's so pale and he's still having trouble breathing. There's blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. Where's it coming from?

He groans and tries to pull off the vest but he's too weak and probably going into shock. I could still lose him. Shock kills.

Impatient, I cut through the damned vest straps and pull it off him. I unzip his parka and jerk up his t-shirt and run my fingers over his warm and dry chest and stomach. Oh thank you God!

"Chuck, help me, please. Let's get you into the truck. You're going into shock, baby, and I need you to help me get you into the truck." He just looked at me with the saddest eyes and then kicked off the one snowshoe that hadn't come off and levered himself up against the truck.

"You drive, Sarah. I – I don't… I mean, I – I…"

"Sure, sweetheart, just get in the truck." I push him up into the truck and then climb in. He's on autopilot, belting himself in and then saying, "Let's go home, Sarah. I'm so tired, baby, and I just want to sleep."

I start the truck and turn around and drive back to the cabin. It's only been 50 minutes since he left the cabin and his world has changed irreversibly. How he must hate me for shooting Bryce but I know that it had to be done. He'd never have been able to do it and Bryce would have taken advantage of his brother's loyalty and love to kill him at the earliest opportunity.

I stop the truck in front of the cabin porch and watch him as he releases his seat belt and walks up onto the porch and turns and waits for me. Chuck Bartowski is waiting for me, not Kappa, not Agent Bartowski, Buy More Chuck with all his various and sundry insecurities and fears evident on his haggard face.

I walk to the porch and then unlock the door and he walks in and starts tearing off his clothes and I follow. He walks into the shower and turns on the water until it's hot. Steam begins to fill the bathroom and he steps in, welcoming the pain.

I'm at a loss about what to do. He's frantically washing his face and hands and mumbling something I can't make out over the sound of the shower. Finally I just strip off my clothes, step in behind him and adjust the temperature of the shower and slip around in front of him. I take the bar of soap and a washcloth and begin washing him, cleansing him of his sins.

"Chuck, I'm sorry about Bryce. I know he was your brother and I'm sorry how this all played out. I'm sorry I was the reason he tried to kill you, sorry that I was the excuse he used and sorry I killed…" I can't finish. I start to cry and he wraps his arms around me and holds me, rocking me gently until the water starts to cool. He picks me up and carries me into the bedroom and stands me up and returns seconds later with a towel.

"Shhh, it's OK. I've got you and I won't let anything bad happen to you ever again. It's OK. It's not your fault. He was crazy, insane, whatever you want to call it. He was always first, always got the girl, and always had to win. Olympus named him Alpha and he always had to be the center of the world. He was obsessed with it and his obsession finally killed him. Shhh. Not your fault, not anyone's fault. Shhh."

Chuck finishes drying me and puts me to bed and crawls in after me and wraps me in his arms holding me against him.

"Shhh. Go to sleep, Sarah. I love you. Nothing has changed that, nothing ever could."

* * *

When I wake up, he's gone. The cabin is empty and I'm on the verge of a meltdown. No message, nothing to tell me why he's left me. The truck is still parked where I left it but his bag is gone. I take out my cell and call Casey and report the situation.

"Casey, secure. We're about 15 minutes out, Sarah. How's Chuck? Has Larkin made it in yet?"

"Bryce is dead. Chuck's gone. I'll fill you in when you get here. Note the new GPS coordinates. When you get there, drive on about 400 yards until you see a fire lane on your right. Turn up the lane and we're…I mean, I'm about another 150 yards further." I gave him the new coordinates and was disconnecting when I heard his unusually sincere voice say, "Sarah, you OK?"

"No, John, I'm not. I'll fill you in when you get here." I hang up on him, not caring for any platitudes or crap out of Casey.

**Chuck's POV**

This process had taken a lot longer than I thought it would.

I slammed the door after dumping the last body into the wrecked rental car. I'd put Bryce across the front seat but shoved the others into the back seat and the ruined trunk. I don't care how they 'feel' since they'll all be crispy critters as soon as I get the railroad flare from my pack.

I'd walked down the road to the SUV and piled the bodies in the back as I drove to the site of the wreck and came across them. A little blood on the back deck wouldn't be that noticeable. They'd mostly bled out where they'd fallen so it wasn't much of a mess at all. Hauling frozen stiffs out of the woods, that had been…interesting.

I crawl under the Malibu and punch a hole in the gas tank with my Gerber and wait until a nice pool has formed beneath the vehicle and then mumble a prayer I've forgotten most of the words to and light the flare and toss it under the car.

The gas ignites with a 'Whoosh' and soon the whole car is in flames. I can't seem to care. He was my brother and I loved him but I'd reconciled myself a long time ago that the brother I loved was 11, not the 30-year old body lying across the front seat. That man had been a familiar stranger.

I stay until I hear the sound of an approaching vehicle struggling up the hill in the snow. Shit! I'm so out of position it's funny but I don't laugh. I debate whether to jump in the SUV and tear up the road past our turnoff and draw Casey off to a more defensible position or just stand here and let Fate have her way.

I've brought the damned heavy Barrett for a reason and so I jog off the side of the road up into the tree line. Casey's Crown Vic is about to have its engine tuned up with a .50 caliber blockbuster. I'll deal with the fallout with my 9mm.

Just as Casey slows and draws abreast of the burning wreck the gas tank explodes and Casey's training kicks in. Sensing an ambush he floors the Crown Vic to escape the kill zone but his car doesn't have snow tires and he just slews over into the ditch on the opposite side of the dirt road. I sight in on the passenger door figuring to take him when he crawls out but take my finger off the trigger when a small woman tumbles out the open window and rolls into a shooter's stance on the road.

What the…

"Anna Wu. Drop your weapon and put your hands in the air. Where's Casey? What have you done with him?" _Damn it, are all the Burbank Buy More employees frikkin' spies?_

"Casey's fine, Chuckles. He was driving. He's having a hard time pulling his fat ass out of the car, that's all. Jesus, Chuck, does he rant at you the way he goes on about California and the CIA? I'm surprised you haven't capped him yet. You have the patience of Buddha, Chuckles!"

"Goddamn you, Bartowski! You did that deliberately! Look at my fine automobile! I'm going to kill you if there's so much as a de…"

**|BLAM|**

The .50 caliber round hit just behind the front wheel and plows into the transmission. I work the bolt and seat another round.

"Cool your jets, NSA! You're hardly in a position to do squat about anything. Now, on your knees, both of you and pull out your weaponry and throw it in the ditch…"

"You're a dead man, Bartowski! I'm going to…"

The next round strikes behind the rear tire and enters the gas tank. A fireball 20 feet high erupts and the car settles down into the ditch. Casey is face down in the snow, speechless and torn between shooting me and crying. He and Wu were tossed around a bit when the gas tank blew out.

"I'll buy you a new damned car, Casey, just disarm and then walk this way. There's a blue SUV about 50 yards up the road. I'll meet you there. The walk will do you both good. And Casey? Don't even think about pulling any shit on me. I'll kill you just to prove I can, understand?"

Casey grumbles but knows when to fold 'em. "Fine. But we _will _settle this later, Bartowski." His growl is drowned out by Anna's laughter and that just pisses him off more.

"Agent Wu, how is Director-General Hsu these days? Still bothered by gout? And how are things progressing with the reorganization of the National Security Bureau? Have they repainted the Breeze Garden yet? That yellow ochre would gag a maggot!"

Now it was Wu's turn to growl and Casey laughed. "Got ya dead to rights, didn't he, Agent Wu? Seems like your cover's been blown."

"The Director-General sends his respects and greetings and his thanks for advising him of the plots against him and his family. He sent me to ensure your safety from your…friends," she shoots Casey a dirty look, "and again offers you political asylum, Kappa, for you and your…woman." Now she looks like she's eaten prunes…really old prunes. She doesn't care for Sarah Walker at all.

"I'll seriously consider his kind offer, especially in light of the events of the past few days. Now, walk to the SUV. The keys are in it. Casey, you drive and Wu rides shotgun and I'll meet you back at the cabin. And Casey…if you hassle Sarah, I'll kill you, I swear to God. Now, move it, people. We're burning daylight and we have a lot to discuss and accomplish."

I head off to the cabin. They'll get there before me and I hope they take my warning about hassling my… about hassling Sarah, seriously. I know Wu will, but Casey is an ass and will probably open his big, fat mouth and insert both feet. I redouble my efforts and curse myself for not getting the snowshoes.

**Casey's POV**

I'm going to kill that sonofabitch! He ruined my Crown Vic! Destroyed it! Buy me another car? With what? Bartowski doesn't have more than a paycheck or two in the bank.

I look over at Wu and nod. She's a pro, I'll have to give her that. Her attitude was a little loose on the trip up but once the fat was in the fire, she was all-professional. I envy her and the way she unassed my car and rolled into a shooter's stance. Impressive. I'm getting too old for this crap.

"Casey, there's the turnoff. You know what Chuck was doing back there when we drove up on him, don't you?"

"No, Wu, why don't you tell me?" I am getting tired of her know-it-all attitude.

"He was burning the bodies, cleaning up what was obviously a classic ambush he and Sarah Walker pulled off. I'll be you didn't notice all the 9mm shell casings lying about in the snow, did you?"

I hadn't. I'd been too focused on my car. Very unprofessional. Not my best showing.

"There's a big rig up there. I wonder who else is here? I'll bet Walker's beloved Porsche is in the barn. So, Anna, how do you want to play this?" I'm curious to see how her mission objectives might change.

"Let's hear what they have to say. My mission remains the personal safety and well-being of Charles Bartowski; you and Walker were not mentioned." I could see the faintest hint of a smile.

"I agree. Who knows, maybe the nerd genius has figured out a way for us to avoid sanctions. Wu are you even a citizen? I mean, you speak English, American English, quite well. So, how long have you been deep cover?"

"Almost 8 years. I came here when I was 9 and remained behind when my parents returned to China. The political situation had resolved itself and my parents could return and resume their lives after the junta was replaced by free elections. I was an American girl and had no desire to return to the paddies."

"And yet you're clearly a member of a foreign intelligence service operating in the US without permission. When did you get your training and where?"

"Taiwan. Now, Major Casey, I suggest you worry less about me and more about yourself. I don't think Chuckles is all that enthralled with you right now. Your car should have given you a hint of the current attitude he has. Or are you too thick to get it?"

I growl. I know my car's destruction was revenge for the Castle questioning. I just hope he doesn't decide to get _even_.

I park the SUV and get out and walk up onto the porch and wait for Wu to join me. I can't wait to see the look on Walker's face when she sees Anna.

I knock on the door and a teary-eyed Sarah Walker greets me with "Where's your piece of shit Crown Vic? What were those explosions I heard? And what the hell is _she _doing here?"

"Hello to you, too, Agent Walker. Allow me to introduce Agent Anna Wu, National Security Bureau, Republic of China, the good China, not the other one." I see Wu beam at me for my 'good one' comment.

"Her brief and mission is the protection of one Charles Irving Bartowski, Nerd Herd supervisor and all-around pain in the ass. I don't think she knows about Chuck's alter ego. At least not the one I know about, if you get my drift?"

"You're S.O.L. on protecting Bartowski, Wu. He's gone. Something happened last night and, well, he's just gone." She starts to cry again and turns around and walks back into the back of the cabin. I gesture for Wu to go in get out of this damned wind and snow.

"Sarah, Chuck will be here in a few minutes. He was down the road cleaning up the ambush site. And killing Casey's car." Wu chuckles and then laughs outright.

"What? You saw him? Is he all right? Is he coming back? Well?"

"He's fine, Sarah. He has a bad attitude toward Casey though. Blew up his old polluter and then gave us that slightly-less environmentally destructive SUV to replace it."

She starts to cry again and Wu and I exchange glances. Christ, what happened here last night?


	17. Coming In From the Cold

Chapter13

**Somewhere**

He was fast running out of steam. The snow was thigh-deep in some places and the wind seemed to always be blowing into his face no matter which way he turned. His cheeks were numb and he missed the added warmth of the Kevlar vest. Surely it hadn't been this cold last night?

He cursed himself yet again for not recovering the snowshoes and again for not just riding back to the cabin in the SUV. He lowered his head and plowed on through the drifts. He wished he were on the beach in Malibu or anywhere as long as it was warm.

**Unit 4 Cabin**

"He just left without a note or anything? He probably figured it wouldn't take him as long to police up the ambush site as it did. That was a classic ambush."

"Yeah, classic, Casey. He got shot twice – by Bryce. But thank God he had his vest on. He's sore but alive. He went out 45 minutes before he had me drive down the road and took out four of them without firing a shot. Bryce had tricked Chuck into thinking he'd been shot and Chuck pulled him out and saw a trank dart but suspected something. He told me to get in the truck and then Bryce shot him, chest and stomach."

"Jesus! Why? They're brothers! Where's Larkin now? That RatBastard has a lot of explaining to do." Casey was both shocked and outraged. That helped explain why Chuck was so defensive and suspicious. His own brother? From the guilty and distraught look on Sarah's face, she'd been at the center of Larkin's obsession.

"He's dead. I shot him then got Chuck back here. Sometime early this morning he left. That's all I know, Casey. No note, no whispered goodbye, nothing. I thought he'd left me – because of Bryce."

Ann Wu was looking around the cabin, getting a situational awareness of her environment, when she spotted the note on the floor under the kitchen table. Ignoring the frowns when she walked between the two partners she stooped down and retrieved the note.

"Here, Blondie. It's really windy and I'll bet he left the note on the table and the wind blew it off when he left." Anna handed her the note without looking at it. It was not any of her business but the look of gratitude on Walker's face brought full realization to Anna – Walker was so compromised it was pathetic, and adorable. She wished she could have someone who could make her crazy the way Walker was.

Sarah read the note and started to cry again. She looked at her partner and his companion and smiled through her tears and went back to the bathroom to wash her face (and have a good cry at what he'd written).

"Wu, I'm sure glad you found that damned note. I don't think she'd have lasted much longer. She's lost to the service but she'll make a dedicated protective agent for Chuck. You might be going home soon."

Neither of them said what they thought: 'Shit'.

**Somewhere**

Chuck was frozen, couldn't feel his feet or his face and was beginning to worry. He should have crossed the road leading to Unit 4 by now unless the snow was so deep he'd crossed it and hadn't known it. He stopped in the shelter of a thick stand of pines to analyze his situation and make a plan. Even though it was well into the late morning, visibility was very limited by the blowing snow. It was like being in a well-lit cotton ball. He'd gotten cocky and now he might just pay the price. Sighing, he retraced his steps figuring to find either the lane up to the cabin or the side road. Either would do.

**Unit 4**

Walker sat on the toilet seat holding a warm washcloth over her eyes hoping the puffiness would be gone before her…yeah, he'd asked her to marry him and he knew she'd say 'yes' so…before her _fiancé_ came back and found that she'd thought he'd abandoned her. She didn't need to think very hard to figure out what that would cause.

Out in the living room, Anna glanced at her watch and motioned Casey to come outside with her.

On the porch she looked down the lane towards the road. "John, Chuck should be back by now. I think he's lost in these whiteout conditions. It doesn't take that long to walk a mile, even in these conditions. I think he walked right past us in this blizzard."

"Want to take a walk, Wu?" Casey wasn't serious but he was very concerned.

"No, but I have another solution. We'll just be his light house only instead of light we'll use sound. Get in the environmental mangler and take it down the lane a hundred yards or so and I'll use the big rig's horn. We'll alternate every 30 seconds. The Doppler between the two will give him a two-point reference."

"That's pretty damned smart, Wu. They teach you that in agents' school?"

"Nope, saw it in a movie. John, we have to get you out more." She realized what she said and blushed, thankful that he couldn't tell in this storm.

**Somewhere**

He was cold. And tired. And out of breath. He'd made an assumption and assumptions are usually wrong and in this case it was going to be a fatal assumption. He laughed out loud but the wind whipped the sound away so quickly he wasn't sure he'd done it.

He hunkered down in the lee of the wind behind a thick tree and analyzed his situation. The wind-driven snow had almost completely obliterated his tracks so just backtracking and coming across his path and then turning east to hit the road was out. He was tired and his ribs ached and it hurt to take a deep breath. The snow was powdery and that ruled out a snow cave. He was done for.

He heard the sound of a truck horn, at least he thought it was. He wasn't sure where the sound came from and he strained his ears to hear a repeat of it. It sounded like it was to his right but he wasn't certain.

A few seconds later he heard another horn, this one sounded different and from a slightly different direction. About a minute later he heard another horn and now he had a basic direction and he tucked his chin down into his parka and started off in a direction mid-way between the sounds.

**Unit 4**

Sarah stood on the porch wrapped in her parka waiting for some sign that the 'lighthouse' was working. Her fear was that the sounds of the horns would be lost in the howling winds and that he'd stumble around in the approaching dusk until he froze to death.

'_If he comes back – no, damn it – when he comes back, I'll throw him in the shower to warm him up then put him to bed. John and Anna can just get over it. The couch pulls out and they are adults. They can just snuggle to keep warm. I am not sharing my bed with anyone but Chuck'._

Anna could see Sarah standing on the porch looking worried and cold. If he didn't show in the next few minutes, she and Casey would drive up and down the road blowing the horn until it was dark and by then it wouldn't matter.

Chuck staggered toward the sound of the horn directly ahead of him. He couldn't ever remember being this cold, not even in Winter Survival School in Alaska. He walked up and beat on the passenger door and finally just sat down in the snow to wait for help.

Casey jumped out of the truck and pushed Chuck into the passenger side and then drove back to the cabin blowing the horn all the way. Chuck was in the shower 10 minutes later. Finally warm, he sat down with Sarah, Casey and Anna and went over the events of the previous night, leaving out the comments Bryce had made about the 'why' of all of it.

"Chuck, tell them why, please? It's OK, really. He was frikkin' nuts and had been plotting this for the last year at least."

After filling in the blanks, he asked Casey what he felt they should do.

"If Beckman learns that Larkin was nuts and Fulcrum, maybe she'll pull back the sanctions on all of us. It's worth a try. The problem is, how do we get to talk to her?"

"I may have the answer to that, Casey. I pulled all Bryce's luggage out of the rental and stashed it in the SUV they drove up in. If someone can get it, we'll see if his laptop can connect from here or if we'll need to find a town or city."

Casey went out to bring in the luggage from the back of the SUV and Anna ran to use the facilities.

"Chuck, I was so worried. When I woke up and you weren't here, I freaked out, Chuck. I didn't see the note you left. Anna found it. The wind must have blown it off the table when you shut the door. I thought you'd left me, Chuck. I'm sorry for doubting you but I just want to be honest with you from now on."

"Good. I don't blame you a bit. If you didn't see the note you wouldn't know what to think. Sorry, I should have weighted it down with something but I was in a hurry and wasn't thinking. I'd never leave you, baby. Never."

"Um, guys, where're the other bedrooms?" Anna had to ask. If the gods of her ancestors were smiling on her, there weren't any.

"Anna, you and Sarah can take the bed. Casey and I will OUCH!"

"Anna, you and Casey can use the couch. It pulls out. Chuck and I have first dibs on the bed. I'm sure Casey won't hog the covers." She laughed and so did Anna. Chuck just rubbed his shin.

Later after they ate steaks and a salad the discussion turned to Chuck and the questions flew hot and heavy.

"Chuck, why the act? I mean, why act like a dumb ass when you're clearly a top-shelf agent?"

"Like I told Sarah, I burned out and the Agency wouldn't let me go so I 'disappeared' myself, so to speak. I came home and reunited with what was left of my family and the rest you know."

Casey was not satisfied. "Chuck, you let Sarah and I take some really dangerous chances to cover your ass when it didn't need covering at all. How would you have felt if something happened to Sarah because you were hiding behind you cover?"

"John, that's not…" Sarah started to respond but Chuck interrupted her.

"Casey, why do you think I never stayed in the damned car? I was always with you guys, even when you didn't know it. I was always armed on missions, you guys didn't even think to check the armory. A couple of times I had to deliberately do stupid things just to stay in character but neither of you were ever in any real danger from my actions. Come on, big John, I love Sarah and would never allow her to be put in that position."

Sarah squeezed his hand and smiled and Anna just sighed. "You know, I've been watching Chuck since before you two arrived on the scene and I've seen him do things that were totally out of character and now I know why. The only thing I don't understand, Chuck, is why you didn't hunt Sarah down and get back together?"

"Bryce. There were partners and engaged. He was my brother. I'd never interfere in his life regardless of how I felt personally and regardless of how many times he's screwed me over. He was family."

"And you think the CIA is just going to have a 'welcome home Kappa' party for you, Chuck? I think they'll want their pound of flesh out of all this."

Sarah spoke up. "I've spoken to Graham. He says they want him back and are willing to 'negotiate'. All is forgiven per Graham. He's actually delighted Chuck is Kappa."

"So that leaves Beckman. I don't think she'll be delighted. I figure she'll contract out the sanctions on the two of us and add Walker in just to be mean. She's a bitch, Chuck."

"Um, Casey, she did. Issue contracts on you and me. Not Sarah, at least not that I know of."

"Who'd she task? NSA? Some independent?"

"Um, well, Casey, she tasked Kappa and you're worth a bundle and so am I. So, want to split the fee?"

"What? But…you're Kappa, right? Is there more than one of you? Is Kappa an orgainization? Spill it, Bartowski or so help me I'll…" He choked on his words when not one, not two, but three pistols were pointed at his heart.

"Major Casey, stand down. Let Chuck explain. It's the least you could do after trying to slow cook him with that hand generator back in your pitiful Castle."

"Thanks, Anna. All of us are tired and cranky – especially Casey. Let's sleep on it and get it handled first thing in the morning. I figure we'll either be home free or on our way off the grid this time tomorrow."

"Fine. But I want some answers now, Chuck. Who is Kappa and is it one person or a syndicate or something?"

"Kappa was a Guardian. I'm Kappa. I'm the only one left. Bryce was Alpha but lost Guardian status when he left Jill in Minsk. That's all the info you're getting right now. Sarah knows the whole story and can fill you in if you still have the burning desire to know but I'm too tired. We'll speak again in the morning." He smiled at Sarah and headed back to the bedroom.

"Casey, hold your water until tomorrow. The couch folds out. You two are adults. Deal with it. I have somewhere I need to be." She giggled and walked back to the bedroom but then came out again with a very sleepy Chuck in tow.

"There's only one bathroom. Chuck and I will hang out here by the fire and you two can take turns. Make it snappy. He's dead on his feet." She flopped on the couch and made Chuck lie down with his head in her lap so she could run her fingers through his hair and generally stay in constant contact with him. She was becoming the needy one of the relationship and she vowed to meet her needs daily if not more often.

* * *

_**A/N: I don't know when you'll read this. Too much personal crap in my R/L. I think I'll tae a break from all this lest y'all find yourselves reading about 'APR vs his ex' instead of Chuck and Sarah.**_

APR

030710


	18. East Meets West Again and Again

Chapter14

Casey/Wu centric. Hu Li is the actual name and meaning. No BS zone.

* * *

Casey glared at Sarah's back as Anna laughed her way back to the bathroom. "Walker, this is…this is…"

"Spit it out, John. You don't do the 'Chuck' imitation very well at all. Get to the point, please?"

"She's…I'm…it's not proper, Walker. She's a _foreign spy_ for God's sake, a _Chinese_ agent…it's not proper at all." He wasn't making any sense, even to himself and he'd always prided himself on making sense in this screwed up game.

"So if she were CIA or NSA it would be OK? My God, Casey, you're an adult. Deal with it. She didn't have any objections and _you're _a foreign spy to her and _not_ Chinese." She was enjoying this, much to her own surprise. Chuck must be rubbing off on her. She hoped so. She planned on doing a lot of rubbing in the future.

"I'll sleep in the truck. I'll manage. It's not proper, Sarah."

Anna walked out into the room and caught the last part of his sentence and frowned. Was she that repulsive to him? Had she overplayed her role as the ditzy token oriental hacker? Or was he intimidated? She had been laying it pretty thick on the way up here.

Casey turned and started to walk toward the kitchen to get some coffee and look for extra blankets and stopped, stunned. Anna Wu had taken a shower and was standing there in the doorway, makeup gone and hair straight and towel-dried. She looked beautifully innocent in just long t-shirt that she'd appropriated from Chuck's bag and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to share the couch with her.

Anna Wu was observant. She had to be in her job. Missing details meant possible failure and she'd never failed. She saw the pupils dilate and knew she'd been correct to strip off the goop on her face, let her hair fall straight and naturally and to steal one of her mark's t-shirts. She wanted to project an aura of innocence and she'd hit the bull's eye if the look on his face was any indication.

"Wu, you stay on your half and I'll stay on mine. We're adults. OK?"

"Fine. Just don't hog the blankets. And you better not snore, either."

He muttered something under his breath and then went back to the back to do his thing. The situation was rapidly spiraling down into an area he desperately wanted to avoid but had no choice now.

He walked back out and Sarah woke Chuck and led him back to the back by the hand. He was dead on his feet. She came back a few minutes later with a stack of blankets and an extra pillow. "I won't need a pillow," she said with a smug smile. "Night-night, you two. There's more than enough wood to keep you guys warm. Casey, remember artic survival school." She chuckled and then laughed and walked back to the bedroom. They heard the door lock with a 'snick'.

Wu folded out the bed and started putting on the sheets and the blankets when she caught Casey staring at her. "What's wrong now? I promise not to assault you in your sleep, Casey. You virtue is safe with me." Until I start moving around and end up in your arms 'in my sleep'.

He grunted, hoping his face didn't betray his thoughts. His virtue was the last thing on his mind. Artic survival training was, however. Damn her.

Sarah locked the door and then laughed. Her man was half undressed but sound asleep. Smiling, she finished stripping him, rolled him over onto his back, got undressed and slipped in beside him and got as close to him as she could. She fell asleep, thoughts of little Chucks and Sarahs making her smile.

* * *

Casey couldn't sleep. He finally got up, took off his pants, socks and sweatshirt and then arranged the couch pillows so that he could watch the fire. He was very uncomfortable. He was extremely uncomfortable. Now he knew how Bartowski had felt all those months with Sarah right there beside him on cover sleepovers. He found a new respect for his former asset. Guardian or not, he had willpower.

Wu lay on her side, her back to Casey. She couldn't sleep. She was uncomfortable. She was horny. And she was in love. The object of her attentions was apparently as unnerved as she was.

"John, I can't sleep. I can hear you restlessly tossing and turning. This isn't good for either of us. Talk to me. Maybe it'll bore you to sleep."

"About what?"

"Tell me about John Casey. Not the crap in the file. About you, John. Do you plan on staying in the NSA until retirement? And then what? What do you see yourself doing with the job is done?"

"This is all I have. This is all I know. I can't fly any more. I'm getting pretty old for field operations so I imagine I'll take a staff position someplace. I really don't like to think about it. I don't like the idea of getting old and being replaced by 'newer agents'. I hate paperwork and administrative crap. I don't have the patience for bureaucracy. I really don't know. How about you?"

"Agents of my Bureau don't normally live long enough to retire. We can quit any time but to do so is dishonorable and unthinkable. To abandon one's country when the entire world is aligned against it…I don't like to think about it. I'm like you. This is all I have. This is all I know."

"If you weren't here, where would you be? Nothing classified. I'm just curious, that's all."

"Probably deep cover on the mainland. Most of the women of my division are selected for deep cover and are either still in place or have been discovered by the People's Bureau of Public Safety and killed or exchanged for their captured agents."

"What kind of assignments, Anna?" He was genuinely curious.

"A mark is selected early and we join with him, marry him and live our lives with him, guiding him to positions of power and influence and then we betray him and report back to our principals on Taiwan."

"But what about love? You marry someone you don't really love for the job?"

"Some are compromised and useless. Some are, as I already told you, ferreted out and killed or turned. If there are children and you're caught, they are used to make you turn against our country. That is why most aren't activated until their husbands are in place. Until then, they just…live normal lives. I couldn't do it. I couldn't marry someone I didn't love for the job. I couldn't have his children and then betray him. Not a very good spy, huh, Casey?"

"No, Anna, but a very good person." That was high praise from Casey and she knew it and was pleased.

"So, no woman in your life? No girl friends?" She knew he'd been alone since appearing at the Buy More.

"Once, but no more. She chose the job over me. It was the right thing to do. It would never have worked. We were on different sides of the fence. She did not betray me but she didn't betray her country either. She was a damned fine woman and operative."

"Was?"

"Was."

"I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean to pry. It's just that you're the first person I've met other than Chuck that I can talk to comfortably."

"Chuck knew you were an agent. I suppose that made it easy for him."

"He was my mark but never let on that he knew who I really was…my assignment was different. I suppose I could have attempted a relationship but Walker showed up and I settled for protecting him. You know he was serious, Casey. He never let you guys get into trouble if he could help it. He did some crazy stuff to keep you guys safe and you, the Great Casey and the Operative Walker, never knew and just mocked him or talked down to him. 'Stay in the car, Chuck'. He almost never did."

That made him uncomfortable. The 'moron', the 'idiot', was a superlative operative and he'd never seen it, never even thought about all the times he'd 'nerded out' and save their asses.

Casey rolled over and looked at her back. "Suppose you wanted to stay in the States and continue being his 'protector'. Would that be permitted?"

"Probably. He is held in high regard in the high circles of our bureau. Everyone knows about the Guardians. We have the same level of agents. They are the best of the best. I could never do it, though. I'm too 'undisciplined' according to my case officer."

She rolled over to talk to him and was surprised when she found herself face to face with him. She looked at him. He looked at her. That was all it took. East met West. It was a joining that would have consequences for both agents in the future but neither cared at that moment.

* * *

Chuck woke at 5am, wonderfully wrapped in Sarah and thinking lewd and perverse thoughts as she sensed that he was awake and began nibbling on anything 'Chuck' within in range of her lips.

"Keep that up, Agent Walker, and we'll both find ourselves in a 'compromising' situation." She giggled and just continued her labial exploration of the man who'd promised to make her his wife.

"Please, babe, we have to get up and moving. We've got to get Beckman off our asses and then figure out what the hell we're going to do with the remainder of our lives. Unfortunately, staying here is not an option."

"No. Don't. Just for a few more minutes. It's just us in here and the world will just have to wait for a while. Besides, Casey and Anna are probably still sound asleep. It's only a little after 5am and they had a big day yesterday."

Thoughts of the previous two days came roaring in and shattered her peaceful world. "You're right, Chuck. Let's get moving. Beckman, then a plan. I just don't know where Casey and Wu fit in, if at all. I'm still a little pissed at him for the torture. I know he thought the real you was dead but…"

He silenced her with a brief kiss, muttered about his morning breath and rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. She waited until she heard the commode flush and then followed him thinking "Shower Sex!"

* * *

Anna was in a state of grace, surrounded by the man she loved but never thought to have and basking in the afterglow of a sexual marathon that proved that older was better – at least in his case. They'd only gotten a few hours sleep. Each woke the other as if to confirm their presence and that was usually enough to begin another torrid round of 'East meets West' as she heard him sigh once or twice.

She disengaged herself from his arms, smiling as he growled in protest but slipped back to sleep, and searched for the t-shirt and then threw a few more logs on the fire. She found the ingredients and started the coffee and then listened at Chuck's door for signs of activity or sleep. She really had to pee.

Sighing, she picked the lock, smiled at the sight of the destroyed bed and then slipped into the bathroom, ignoring the sounds of the two lovers in the shower. Images assaulted her and she quickly cleaned herself and then left. She was imagining herself impaled on her big lover writhing in the hot shower and shook her head. Time for that and more later.

"Hu Li, where are you?" Casey woke to a cold and empty bed and a missing Wu woman. 'Hu Li' was her Chinese name – Little Fox.

She brought him a cup of freshly brewed coffee and settled in beside him, curled up under his arm and basked in the glow of the fire and him. This time and place would always be special.

"Anna, I think we need to talk. Not about…"

"Hush, John. For a while, call me 'Hu Li', for that is who I am now, your 'Little Fox'. Just sit and enjoy your coffee and us for the time we have left. Together. The real world will be here soon enough."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Us and the real world. I don't want to give this up. I'm not talking the sex stuff, well, yeah, of course, but I meant you and me. Damn it, I'm not much on words but I meant what I said last night. Stay with me. We can find a way to make things work. I'll retire. We'll go to Taiwan and I'm sure I can find something to do while you're off saving Taiwan from the Red Scum."

Her heart stopped. It was as close as she'd ever come to saying the dreaded three words no spy utters and means. But she did. Maybe. Perhaps.

"We'll see, John. I don't want to lose the sex. It was fantastic. _You _were fantastic."

"Damn it, Wu…"

"Don't interrupt, NSA man. I wasn't finished. I don't want to lose you, you big dolt." Her hand wandered under the sheets. "And I do mean big, John." Then she giggled and ducked under the sheets and started working on him with her mouth when Sarah breezed into the kitchen saying 'Good morning, Casey. Where's Anna?"

Anna popped up from under the covers with a salacious grin on her face and Walker blushed and turned and almost ran to the bedroom mumbling, "Sorry, sorry…"

"I hate the CIA. Let's get up, Hu Li."

"You are up, Big John." She giggled and then started dressing. "We'll finish our discussion later. I meant what I said, too. We'll find a way."

* * *

APR


	19. Interruptions and Misunderstandings

Chapter 14

A/N: OK, it's been 8 months and I got married so the 'personal crap' is out of the way.

* * *

**To bring you up to speed: Chuck (Kappa) is a burned out CIA operative who went off the grid after a mission where he rescued Sarah in Ecuador. She was Bryce's partner but he'd left her behind to die or worse, a habit of his. Sarah 'fell for' her rescuer but after being returned to the US Embassy Bryce told her he was killed completing his mission. Later they meet as Handler/Asset but Sarah doesn't recognize Chuck who does something and Casey's on him like white on rice. He runs off the grid with Sarah and they end up in the mountains at Unit 4. Bryce shows up with some friends and tries to kill Chuck in order to prove his love for Sarah. Sarah kills Bryce and then Casey and Wu show up. Wu is intelligence agent from Taiwan sent to guard Bartowski in gratitude for an assassination warning. Oh, yeah, and Chuck (as Kappa) has been tasked with assassinating Chuck and Casey by Beckman.**

* * *

Unit 4

Chuck reached for his weapon when Sarah rushed back into their room mumbling 'Sorry, oh, so sorry'. He'd never seen her embarrassed before and immediately thought her panicked look was the result of some threat. Ignoring his state of undress he rushed out into the main room in a combat crouch, weapon extended in a search for threats.

Anna Wu was in the process of pulling up her panties when Chuck made his sudden appearance and she stopped, panties at about mid-thigh, and raised her hands above her head. This made her breasts rise and jiggle and temporarily distract the former Guardian but it was enough time for a naked Casey to have his pistol out and pointed at Chuck.

For two heartbeats the tableau was frozen and then Wu started to giggle. It was enough to break the tension and Chuck lowered his weapon and smirked at Casey who was still sporting the results of Anna's interrupted oral assault.

"Sorry, um, sorry." He whirled and scuttled back into his room and turned to confront Sarah who was on the bed in a fetal position laughing with her face buried in the pillow."

"You could have stopped me, y'know, Blondie? A naked Wu is one memory I'll cherish but the image of Casey naked and…I need brain bleach. Oh, shit. I'm gonna pay for that somewhere down the road."

The 'naked Wu' comment got her attention and she stopped laughing and got up on her knees looking like a little girl whose puppy was lost.

"Do you think she's prettier than I am, Chuck? I know you have this thing for brunettes and I could always dye…"

"No! Brunettes are a thing of the past. Blondes, one blonde in particular, are more to my taste. I guess you've ruined me for anyone else, Walker. Satisfied?"

"For now. But we have a mission and time's short." She'd licked her lips before replying, the memory of their joining in the shower flooding her with pleasure.

"You stick your head out and make sure the coast is clothed and I'll fire up Bryce's laptop and see about a connection."

Sarah snickered but stuck her head out the door to check on things with the two most unlikely lovers she could ever imagine. "Coast is clear. Anna is cooking breakfast and Casey's making up the sofa bed. The picture of domesticity."

"Damn it. No signal. He's got some sort of encryption on the network WiFi connection and I don't have a clue as to the password. We're going to have to go into town, babe, and use a local."

"Wait a minute. You're some kind of computer genius and you can't crack a password that playboy could come up with? You're kidding me, right?"

"Nope. I designed his security system and it uses a random 128-byte algorithm and so it's impossible to crack in the time we have."

"Oh." She wasn't surprised, just disappointed. She really didn't want to lose this closeness to a trip into town and all the risk it entailed. Sighing, she went out into the kitchen area in search of coffee.

Chuck booted up the WiFi connection after keying in his master pass code. He'd created the backdoor in the likely event his idiot brother screwed something up and he had to go in and fix it. It was the 4th time since he'd gone to ground in Burbank that he'd had to go in. This time was different, though. This time he was going in as Bryce.

He logged onto the intranet web site used by field agents and left a request for an immediate telephone contact using Bryce's cell that he'd taken from his brother's body. He put on the voice alteration device and plugged into the cell phone to await the call.

Sarah knocked lightly at the closed door and stuck her head in to tell him 'breakfast was served' but stopped. He had his back turned and he obviously was engaged in a cell conversation with someone she suspected was Beckman.

He sounded exactly like Bryce and she felt a jolt of remorse and loss that she quickly squelched. _'This is not the time to mourn. This is the time to support my future husband. I protected the man I love, just as it should be. Bryce is the mistake. Chuck is the correction.'_

"General, it's Bryce Larkin. I'm…I screwed up, General. I trusted an 'inside' tip and it turns out the Fulcrum asset was playing me to locate and identify the intersect Host. I think…no…I know that Bartowski would never betray his country nor would Casey. This guy wanted to make the host run and his absence would confirm his identity."

"Larkin, it's taken you four days to discover this? Four days? Bartowski, Walker and Casey are all unaccounted for. If anything has happened to them because of your 'heartbreaking revelation', I'll sanction you myself."

"Ma'am, it was an honest mistake. The Fulcrum contact played me. Me! The best in the business! You know I wouldn't do anything to harm the project!"

He tried to sound like the injured party and he thought he was swinging it. After all, Bryce Larkin never took the blame for anything. It was always someone else's fault.

"Where are you, Larkin? I want you to locate Bartowski and his handlers and bring them in from the cold. Use any means necessary. I have to pull the sanction order before it's too late. Kappa never fails and I doubt she'll fail this time. You'd better pray she's behind the curve, Larkin."

Sarah heard the 'click' of the General's phone disconnecting and Chuck's belly laugh weirdly interpreted by the device he wore as Larkin's.

He turned around and stopped laughing. Sarah had the strangest look on her face, almost a mixture of sorrow and anger.

"Get that damned thing off and never, ever, use that bastard's voice in my presence again. He's dead. I killed him. You're alive. I love you. I don't ever want to hear that traitor's voice again, understand me? Never!" She was so angry she had tears in her eyes and he couldn't help wondering if they were tears of anger or sorrow.

'_Oh, shit! Maybe she's still feeling something for Bryce and his voice has stirred up her…"_

She must have read his mind because her next words reassured him.

"Chuck, it's not what you think. I'm sad about you losing your brother but not because I still feel anything for him. I don't love him. I love you and we're going to get this crap all sorted out and then Graham will have to let us get married if he wants his precious Kappa back."

Chuck packed the equipment away and motioned for Sarah to precede him to the kitchen.

"One minute, hot stuff. You lied to me, Chuck. I won't have it in our relationship. You cracked that code like I'd crack a walnut and you lied about it. Why?" She was angry all over again only this time he was the target.

"If things didn't go well, I wanted options and I wanted you to have one less thing to worry about. Don't fault me for wanting to protect my lady, Sarah. It's what I'll always do. It's why I was selected for the Guardian program in the first place – high marks in protective instincts."

"Chuuuuuck…" She sighed his name in exasperation.

"Get used to it, Sarah. It's how it's going to be. Bail now if you can't handle being loved and cherished by someone who was patient enough to wait all this time and probably would never have exposed you to his history."

"What are you saying, Chuck? Really? What do you mean?"

"I mean I would never have crossed the line with you as my handler. If you were reassigned then that's the way life wanted it played out. No matter how often I wanted to take you in my arms and kiss the fire out of you, I would have stayed the dumbassed Nerd even if it meant losing you."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth, Bartowski. Why not? I mean if you loved me…"

"Because you were _his!"_

She was dumbstruck for the first time in her life. She'd never heard such virulence put into a word before.

"Let's go eat before Casey leaves nothing but smears of food on the plates." He wanted this conversation over. He walked out into the kitchen to the greetings of the two most unlikely lovers in history.

* * *

"Sorry about before. Walker has developed a weird sense of humor of late. I apologize if I embarrassed you, Wu." He went to the coffee pot and poured a cup, buying time to see their reaction.

"It was Blondie's timing that was the problem, Chuck, not yours, although I did enjoy the appreciative look on your face." Anna was not above being snarky. She was more like Casey than she'd admit.

"Hey, how was I to know you were performing under the covers? I just wondered where you were. That's my story and I'm sticking to it." Sarah had been embarrassed and didn't appreciate having her face rubbed in it.

Casey just blushed and glared, glad for the break in the tension. He really wondered if Bartowski would have shot them both if their responses had been more aggressive. Remembering Anna's face with her panties around her knees and arms in the air made him grin. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

Breakfast was eaten over conversation that eventually turned to their respective histories and 'most memorable operation'. Wu had little to say since she really didn't want to reveal that this was her first real assignment outside of internal security so she said very little, just taking it all in and learning.

"OK, Bartowski, your turn. Most interesting assignment?" He waited on Chuck's response figuring he'd waffle or demure but he was wrong.

"I assassinated a turncoat Naval officer who was feeding Pacific Fleet intel to the Chinese. I blew him up when he took his morning dump. I molded C-4 along the bottom of the seat and when he sat down a pressure switch set off the plastique. Blew his ass right off and cured his spastic colitis for him. Everyone got what they wanted."

Wu just stared at him. Casey started to snort his coffee out his nose and Sarah just looked dazed.

"How about you, Agent Walker? Most interesting mission?" Wu wanted to hear something a girl could relate to.

Sarah's mind went blank. She didn't want to discuss the mission that came immediately to mind. She didn't know how Chuck would perceive her missions and her various roles. She'd forgotten that he was the damned intersect.

"Sarah? What about Montoya? That was…original, to say the least."

Her face darkened and then turned bright red. She stammered out some lame comment about 'need to know' and then dug into her scrambled eggs.

Casey covered her ass and started on his most interesting mission. He'd spent 36 hours crawling up to a fence line to get a shot at a weapons dealer conducting a sale in Uganda. He had no idea that the meeting had been delayed and he spent an additional 24 hours waiting in his Ghillie suit in the hot sun, relieving himself where he lay. Finally, a full 72 hours after he started his mission the target pulled up in a Land Rover not 500 feet away. Casey popped him and his driver and then waited another 6 hours until the rebels showed up and left without their weapons.

Anna stared at Casey as if he was a big chocolate bunny and it was Easter morning. Yum! Chuck just nodded. He'd been in a similar spot himself although it had been in Eastern Europe in a wheat field and his target had been another country's agent. He'd deliberately missed the shot because the man's two children were with him, something that Olympus had not mentioned in the briefing. He wouldn't think it was important.

Anna popped up and asked Sarah abut the 'Montoya mission' and she got a glare that would have shattered glass as her response. Casey got all protective of Anna.

"C'mon, Walker. We're all friends here. Won't go any further, I promise."

She looked over at Chuck who just watched her patiently, waiting for her story.

"It was my first seduction mission and the mark had a computer chip containing names of DEA agents he'd bribed, the dates and amounts of the payments, the usual. We needed the chip and he kept it on a chain around his neck like a religious medal. I picked the mark up in a nightclub in Bogotá. I got him into bed but flipped him a condom saying 'no condom, no Candi'. He put it on and died a few minutes later. I got the chip, got dressed and met Bryce in the hotel lobby and that was it."

"You used a poisoned condom, Sarah? That's…wild." Wu was impressed. She'd have to remember that one and include it in her report. It had applications on the mainland.

Sarah glanced over at her…at Chuck who was finishing up his toast. "No comment, Mr. Ex-Secret-Agent-Man? No judgment?" She didn't know why she was angry – yes, she did. He'd named the mission, baiting the other pair to drag it out of her.

"Nope. Sounds like good spycraft to me. You didn't have to give it up for God and Country and you accomplished your mission. What's to judge?"

She knew he _was_ judging her…only because of the man she met in the hotel lobby. Damn it all, he had no reason to be jealous. It happened before Quito and she was with Bryce as his first female partner – until she remembered Chuck telling her about the other Guardians he'd abandoned. She'd conveniently 'forgotten' what had happened next.

"Well, I gave Bryce the chip and then three of Montoya's bodyguards came running out of the elevator with guns drawn looking for the 'blonde whore' who'd killed their leader. Bryce took off and I followed as best I could wearing an evening gown and heels. He jumped in a cab and took off and I almost got caught but managed to lose myself in the crowded sidewalks outside the nightclubs."

"So, he basically abandoned you and took off with the critical intel? Is that what happened, Sarah?" Casey asked the question that Chuck wouldn't ask but was trying to get her to realize.

She looked down at her cold breakfast and nodded.

"The data on the chip was an accumulation of 2 years of payoffs. It wasn't anything that couldn't have waited an hour, a week or another month, could it, Sarah? He split when the going got tough, just like always." Chuck was looking at her, daring her to make connections.

"What's the point, Bartowski?" Sarah was getting hot under the collar and calling him 'Bartowski' was a sure indicator.

"The point is that you should not be feeling guilty for killing the self-centered psychoneurotic narcissist masquerading as a partner, that's the damned point, Agent Walker. You did what you had to do and I'm damned glad you did." He threw down his napkin and grabbed his parka and left the cabin. Casey was sure he could see steam coming out of his ears.

"Well, Sarah, I think he made the point that any guilt you feel is unnecessary. He proved it by citing one of your first missions with the RatBastard as your partner. Basically, he left you behind to save himself. From what little Bartowski's revealed of his history, Bryce had a survival instinct that didn't include his partners."

Sarah was stunned. She'd done it again and he finally had had enough and just made her look at the situation from the vantage point of history – her history.

Wu had been quiet but finally just blurted out "You better go fix this, Blondie, before he gets his mind set on leaving and going off the grid once he clears you and Casey with Beckman. I know how he thinks and I've just been an observer. Go, before he makes a decision or does something that can't be changed."

* * *

Sarah ducked out the door and went looking for her…Chuck. She'd rounded the corner of the cabin when Chuck reappeared in the doorway and walked directly back to the bedroom.

Sarah had made a full circuit of the cabin when she ran across his footsteps in the snow. He'd only walked about 20 feet before turning and going back inside. Huffing and puffing in the cold, thin air, she followed him back into the cabin.

"Where is he, Casey? The son of a…" She was definitely pissed off. She hated being made to look at herself through his eyes. It made her feel very inadequate.

Casey and Wu were clearing the breakfast dishes and he nodded towards the closed bedroom door. "He went in there and slammed the door. You'd think he would be used to it now, wouldn't you?"

"Used to what, Casey?"

"Your inability to face an unpleasant reality without trying to either ignore it or reduce it to the point of being unimportant. You killed Bryce and he knows it took a toll on you but you refuse to acknowledge it so he made you. You don't like being forced to confront your emotions, do you?"

"No. None of us do." She realized what had happened and how she'd tried to ignore her mini-epiphany regarding her former partner. She walked to the bedroom door but it was locked.

"Chuck, please open the door. I need to talk with you. Please?" She felt rather than heard the door unlock and she hesitantly opened it, almost afraid to find what lay behind it.

He was bent over his laptop and appeared to be waiting for something. He motioned her to stand across the unmade bed and behind the laptop and to be quiet. One minute stretched into two, then three and finally he heard the chime of an incoming video conference call. He quickly put on the voice alteration headset and motioned her to turn out the room lights.

"Kappa, what is the status on the termination? Have you located and eliminated Bartowski and Casey yet?" The image of Beckman provided all the light he needed. She couldn't see his side of the transmission because of the darkened room.

"Is your ass still worth $100,000, Diane?" The standard opening gambit, made more from habit than purpose. He'd modulated the voice somewhat as was his habit. He sounded more like a younger woman than previously.

"You know it is, sweetie. So, have you accomplished your commission yet?" Her image leaned into the screen, trying to see something more than a vague outline. She'd had many a dream about this unseen woman who had tempted her so.

"Within in the hour. I simply wanted to verify that the sanction was still authorized and that the initial deposit had been made as required."

"There has been additional information brought to my attention. I wish you to hold off on any sanction until I can verify the information. It would be most unfortunate for all involved if the information turned out to be true and you eliminated your targets. In other words, my dear Kappa, hold off but stay in touch. I'll be in a position to confirm or terminate the sanction within 24 hours. Of course, you will keep the initial deposit if the sanction has been canceled."

"Of course I will. I will hold off no more than 6 hours, Diane. The marks are moving and setting up again will be…difficult and costly. Perhaps a fee renegotiation will be required if you take longer than 6 hours. My time is valuable and expensive."

"You have our terms, Kappa. We made a deal." She glared at the unseen woman.

"Well, if you're going to be so butch about it, however can I bring myself to meet you in Bermuda? You seem most unpleasant and I don't want to give my sweet body to someone so...unpleasant. I will await your confirmation. Six hours, no more."

He disconnected the signal and leaned back on his haunches. He'd thrown down the gauntlet and now needed to see how serious she was about killing him and Casey. She didn't mention anything about talking to her 'reliable source' and that bothered him. Why delay 24 hours when there was no way to verify the information 'Bryce' had told her?


	20. Jumping to the Conclusion

Chapter 16

**To bring you back up to speed: Chuck (Kappa) is a burned out CIA operative who went off the grid after a mission where he rescued Sarah in Ecuador. She was Bryce's partner but he'd left her behind to die or worse, a habit of his. Sarah 'fell for' her rescuer but after being returned to the US Embassy Bryce told her he was killed completing his mission. Later they meet as Handler/Asset but Sarah doesn't recognize Chuck who does something and Casey's on him like white on rice. He runs off the grid with Sarah and they end up in the mountains at Unit 4. Bryce shows up with some friends and tries to kill Chuck in order to prove his love for Sarah. Sarah kills Bryce and then Casey and Wu show up. Wu is an intelligence agent from Taiwan sent to guard Bartowski in gratitude for an assassination warning. Oh, yeah, and Chuck (as Kappa) has been tasked with assassinating Chuck and Casey by Beckman. Beckman expands the contract to include both his handlers.**

This is the conclusion of the story. There are no epilogues. Don't post a story alert and waste the server space. I know it's long and wordy with lots of gushy dialogue but this is the one and only posting so either go watch Glee or read it. Either way, it's been interesting writing it. You can't see me but I'm shooting you the bird...LOL APR

* * *

"Chuck, I'm sorry about before, in the kitchen. I…" He cut her off.

"That's not important right now. What's important is getting you and Casey out of Kappa's crosshairs and back where you both belong. We have six hours to figure out what to do and after that I either kill all of you or we go back to square one, handler/asset, until Graham can fix things in DC.

"But…"

"Not now, Agent Walker. _Our _thing is relatively unimportant compared to being dead. It will wait until we have time to focus on it, not just run over it in our haste to do something you're not sure you really want to do. We need to talk to Casey and Wu."

He left her in the bedroom and went out and sat down and updated Casey and Wu on the situation. Sarah came out and stood behind Chuck with her hands lightly on his shoulders and her fingertips rubbing his neck gently. She was trying very hard not to grab him by the neck and throttle him.

All four of them sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee and just generally bs'ing to pass the time. It had been almost six hours since Chuck had communicated with Beckman and his mind was going at breakneck speed and he was getting nowhere. If Beckman pulled the sanction then life would go on except he would have to deal with the CIA and with Beckman's wrath when she learned of his secret past. He had no worries about Graham. He'd even take care of the crispy critters left in Larkin's rental in exchange for his return.

If she didn't pull the sanction or worse, expanded it, he had the germ of an idea but didn't think any of the three other agents would agree with it.

He looked at his watch and Sarah saw his eyes narrow and she slipped her hand under the table and rested it lightly on his thigh, and gave him a reassuring squeeze that let him know he wasn't alone. She rubbed his thigh unconsciously. She was thinking about the Marriott and how this had all begun.

She remembered Quito and how he'd gone 'lone wolf' and taken out the remainder of the terrorist organization and then how he'd shut her out and dumped her off on the embassy steps and disappeared from her life. She could see him formulating a similar scenario. She wanted to be with him this time, not dumped on some figurative embassy steps.

"Well, it's time, boys and girls. I'll be right back." He stood and walked into the bedroom to reestablish his link with the General.

"What do you think he's going to do, Sarah? I'm betting she's lifted the sanction and is trying to wheedle her way out of paying the fee."

"I don't have any idea, John. The last time this situation arose was in Quito and he wrapped me up and dumped me on the embassy steps but in such a way that the news agencies carried it and gave me a cover. I don't see it happening this time."

* * *

"Kappa, execute your commission. We've been unable to independently confirm our source's information and so we must err on the side of caution. Kill Bartowski and his handlers."

"You initiated this contract _before_ getting independent confirmation of your original source? Sloppy work, Diane."

"Just do your job. I'll need visual confirmation and you will dispose of the remains so that they're not easily found. Contact me when it's complete with proof and I'll transfer the balance of your commission to your account."

"So be it. Goodbye, General."

* * *

He packed up his computer and then opened his duffel and removed a trank pistol and one complete magazine of long-duration dosages. Chuck was about to do something he found personally disgusting but necessary.

He left the bedroom and made his way to the kitchen. Sarah looked up at him and smiled and he shot her in the chest. Casey went for his weapon and he shot him and then Wu, who hadn't moved a muscle.

He left the cabin and walked back up to the shed. It had nearly stopped snowing and he only had a few hours of daylight remaining. He searched the shed until he found something that would meet his purposes and took his find back to the cabin and then left again.

Chuck checked the 9mm pistol magazine and seated a round. He wouldn't have time to fool with it when the time came. He started his search and quickly found traces of his prey.

* * *

Sarah Walker woke up with a pounding headache. She was lying on her back and felt something lying across her throat and brushed it off and let out a startled gasp. Her hand was sticky with drying blood. She sat up and found she was covered in it but she almost lost it when she saw Casey sprawled across her legs. He was obviously dead since his throat had been cut and he was lying in a pool of blood that had saturated her jeans. There was no sign of Wu.

She pulled herself together and crawled out of the bed and staggered to the bathroom and vomited and then stripped off her clothes and turned on the shower. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and gasped and clutched her throat. Her reflection had had its throat cut and the gaping wound had drained blood down the front of her saturating her white bra. She touched her throat as did her reflection and she let out a sob of relief. It was makeup! It had been carefully created using makeup!

Sarah showered quickly and dressed in clean clothes. Casey's 'gaping wound' was also makeup but he'd been hit by two trank darts and would be unconscious considerably longer than she had been.

Trank darts! Chuck had shot them with trank darts! She ran to the kitchen and saw Bryce's laptop set up on the table with a note stuck to the screen that read 'Play Me'.

__

_'Hey, Sarah. I meant what I said but it's not safe for you and Casey until I tie up a loose end. Tell Casey that Hu Li will meet up with him again in Burbank after her part in the mission is finished. You and Casey need to go back to Burbank and resume your normal activities and keep your covers intact until Kappa pulls one last mission and Chuck can come back to you and keep his promise. Graham is in the loop and will let the situation in Burbank continue as long as possible. Don't worry. Keep the faith.'_

The video ended and she held back a sob. He was going out with Anna Wu to finish off Beckman and then he'd be back. He never broke his word so why was it that she didn't believe a word he said about coming back to Burbank?

It was too much like Quito for her liking.

* * *

Anna Wu returned to Burbank 5 days after Casey and Sarah picked up their cover lives. She arrived late one evening at Casey's apartment wearing jeans and a t-shirt and carrying a backpack.

Casey answered the door and just stood there staring, not sure what to do. He'd missed her but figured she and Bartowski were off tying up loose ends and securing all their futures.

"Where's Bartowski, Wu? Why isn't he with you?" He had a responsibility to the mission and it came first.

"Chuck's dead. Beckman's dead. It was always Beckman's plan to eliminate the Burbank team and then take Kappa out to eliminate any future problems. He walked into a trap in Bermuda. You and Sarah are safe. I failed to keep Kappa alive and now I have to return home to face my bosses. I just came to tell you the news and to say 'goodbye'."

The news shocked him but didn't surprise him. He knew how the intel game worked. He surprised himself when he picked her up and carried her into his apartment.

"John! Put me _down!_ I can't stay. I can't…" Whatever else she might have said in the way of protest was lost.

Hu Li toyed with the hair on Casey's chest and listened to the rumble of his laughter. She'd just told him exactly what had happened in the mountains and in Bermuda. Casey appreciated the panache Bartowski displayed in his ruse to protect himself and Walker. The kid had definitely had style.

* * *

[This is a flashback]

_Chuck injected Anna Wu with a stimulant to counteract the trank dart and quickly explained what he had to do and how she could help. Rather than be tranked again, she agreed and started to work on those garish wounds that Beckman would be delighted with._

_Chuck had seen the deer almost every day since they'd been at Unit 4 and hated doing what he had to do but he had no choice. He needed something that only the deer could provide. _

_He hung the deer and bled it out into a bucket he'd found in the shed and then carried it into the cabin and liberally applied it to the two bodies laid out in the tableau created by Anna Wu. Each agent had had their throats cut and Casey had two gunshot wounds to the chest. The pair poured blood over them in keeping with their wounds and then Wu went to work on Chuck._

_Chuck's body was displayed like the others. His throat had been cut and the blood had pooled in the depression in the mattress. His eyes were open and staring at nothing. There was a look of pain and sadness on his face._

"_OK, Chuck, I got the shots. Let's set up the presentation and email and then get cleaned up and on the road."_

_Chuck used the voice-altering device and narrated the scene for Beckman. Walker was the first to die followed by Casey. Bartowski had made a 'last stand' but he never stood a chance. She cut his throat and dumped him with the others in the bedroom._

"_So, Diane, here is your proof and now you must wire my funds to my account as agreed. Make reservations in Bermuda and email me with the information. Only one room, of course" _

_The piece de resistance was the fast shot of a panty-clad Wu bending over to disconnect the transmission. Hook, line, and sinker. Beckman made reservations within an hour of receiving confirmation of death._

_Charles Hester and his wife Anna arrived in Bermuda 2 days later and took rooms in the same hotel as Beckman would and began their honeymoon. The couple were seen taking moonlight walks on the beach and had become a common sight in the hotel's Caribbean Club. They were obviously very much in love and the difference in heights between the slight Asian woman and her tall American husband set tongues wagging with sexual difficulties and opportunities._

_During the day the couple would take a bus or hotel tram into Hamilton and shop for presents for family and friends but would end up in the Club._

"_Anna, hand me the basting bulb, sweetie. Can you hold the tube while I trim it to the right length? OK, now wrap the wire around the screen, threading it through the slots I cut. Good. You got the mix ready?"_

"_Yeah, Chuck. Just fill the bulb and then screw it onto the base of the basting tube, shake it up good and remember to hold your breath. I think buying flowers to surprise her is a good idea. She'll never see the squeeze gun until it's too late."_

"_Yep, and surprise will take care of the rest. I want you out of this, Hu Li, so go catch a plane. If anything goes wrong, you know what to do."_

_Anna Wu left the hotel using her cover name explaining to the airline clerk that her father had passed away suddenly and that her husband would be following the next day after finishing up some business he'd developed._

**What _really _happened**

_The next morning after ensuring that Wu had caught the morning flight to Savannah and confirming that Diane Beckman had checked in the previous night, Chuck took a bouquet of flowers and the 'turkey baster gun' and knocked on her room door._

"_Who's there?" Chuck answered "Kappa" using the voice altering device. Beckman opened the door and got a face full of flowers and involuntarily inhaled sharply and Chuck squeezed the poison-filled bulb and the contents of the bulb shot out through the screen, creating an aerosol of deadly poison. Even though her heart was seizing in a massive coronary, she still managed to get off one shot with a derringer, hitting Chuck low in the ribs._

_Chuck stepped into the room and took the derringer and hid it in the base of a potted fern and then dissembled and rinsed out the bulb gun, took the General's laptop and left the room, putting a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door. He walked back up to his room and called Graham and gave him the confirmation code for 'mission accomplished' and the secondary code of 'agent injury, severe' and then disconnected._

_He cleaned up the wound, disposed of any evidence of an injury and then quickly reviewed the contents of the General's laptop. He sent another message to Graham with instructions to have the laptop picked up at the front desk of the hotel for 'repair' and to make sure he read the emails. She was a mole for Fulcrum. He also asked him to contact Anna Wu and report his 'death' after explaining her role in the events and providing her cell number._

_Chuck took a bus into Hamilton where he walked around aimlessly, putting parts of the bulb gun in various dumpsters and then finding a quiet bar and drinking the pain away until a group of vacationers came and quietly swept the drunk at the bar away with them._

_The medical team stabilized him, removed the bullet and stitched him up and stayed with him in a rented beach house until he was well enough to transfer to an American hospital on the mainland. _

_He was flown to Savannah where he met with Director Arthur Graham and was offered several options. He accepted the least unpleasant and left for an unknown destination after surgery and a brief period of rest & rehabilitation. _

_It had all been for nothing. Beckman's plot to wipe out Team Intersect was still in motion with Fulcrum running the operation now. If 'Chuck Bartowski' ever surfaced, everyone he loved would forfeit their lives. _

* * *

When the remnants of Team Bartowski met the next morning at the Castle, Casey told Sarah what Wu had told him. She nodded and then walked into the conference room and dialed up a call to Graham and requested immediate reassignment. Chuck wasn't coming back. He was dead.

Casey spent the remainder of his two weeks in Burbank closing the Castle preparing the site for demolition. Anna Wu returned to Taiwan after promising to keep in touch with John Casey by any means available. Casey knew it was a hollow promise just like Bartowski's had been to Sarah - well-intentioned but impossible to keep.

Sarah Walker disappeared into the bowels of CIA Headquarters and was never heard from again. John Casey was appointed commander of a reaction team for the NSA's 'Special Projects Division', promoted to Lt. Colonel and based out of Seattle, WA.

* * *

Eight months later  
A small town outside of Quito, Ecuador

He finished washing up the few dishes he had and pulled a couple of beers out of the noisy Frigidaire and walked wearily down to the patio to listen to the sounds of the city die as night fell. He was content. He'd pulled three Guardian missions for Olympus without casualties and he felt at peace with himself. He hadn't checked his board for the past 3 months since he couldn't handle an op or an engagement contract any longer.

He glanced at his watch and sighed. He had needs and she would be here in another half hour or so and then he'd feel much better for a few days until he felt the ache and then she'd come again.

It started to rain, a gentle and warm rain and he didn't care one bit that he was getting soaked. He finished off the first beer and then opened the second and leaned his face back letting the rain bathe it.

As usual, Rosario rang the bell before using her key and entering the compound. She'd simply entered without alerting him the first time she 'visited' and had found herself staring down the muzzle of a 9mm. She rang the bell every time since then.

She saw he was sitting in the rain drinking one of the two beers he drank each day. She'd chided him the first time she visited but his look quieted her. She'd seen the look before when a man in black had rescued her and her sister from a small clinic where they were being held to force her father, the local police commander, to release drug traffickers that he'd arrested. It was her first meeting but not her last with the man known to the locals only as 'Carlos'.

Nether of them noticed the thin black cable snake under the locked metal doors that opened up into the compound and courtyard. It moved like a snake until it spotted something and then remained fixed.

"Carlos, let me help you up and get you a little more comfortable. Dios mio, but you're soaked. Well, we'll get these clothes off you soon enough and get you dried. Come, don't be difficult. You need help."

"Quit nagging. I'm not dead yet. I can still…OK, a little help would be appreciated. I was afraid you wouldn't make it in the rain. The roads…"

She quieted him with a kiss to his wet forehead and laughed. "Let's go. I have an agenda, Carlos, and you have needs." She helped him up and put an arm around his waist holding on to his belt while he put his around her shoulders. "Sorry. I just don't want you hurt in an accident. How are your sister and father? It's been a while since I've seen either of them."

The couple walked into the villa and soon a light came on in the second floor and then another. The cable had disappeared.

* * *

The assault team leader had watched the scene unfold through the minicam emplaced in the LED filament cable. The sound was spotty due to the rain and distance from the couple but a few scenes and comments were unmistakable – the kiss, the way they held each other when they walked into the villa, the '…you have needs' comment.

The team spotter had had the compound under observation for two weeks and the routine was always the same: the woman came twice a week and spent the night. The man rarely left the compound. Sometimes a man or woman would visit to deliver groceries and unmarked supplies but those were random occurrences.

"You know the drill. We ingress over the wall, establish a perimeter and then clear the ground floor. You all have the floor plans memorized. Simba and Panther secure the ground floor while Tiger, Leopard and I hit the second floor. Tranks only. Our mission is a live extraction. Deadly force…deadly force is _not_ authorized."

"You OK, Omega?" The 2IC had heard the hesitation and hitch in the leader's voice and was concerned. He knew about the reputation and history of their mark.

The team leader hissed back at him in a voice laced with fury. "I've got it together. Just do your job and don't fuck it up. Graham wants this guy in Langley ASAP."

"What's so damned special about this guy? He's a fucking hermit who hits on one of the local whores a couple of times a week. He seems harmless enough."

Simba snorted. "You have no idea who you're dealing with here, moron. We're after the last surviving Guardian. He's been off the grid and not answering quieries and Graham wants to know why. Just listen to the boss and hold your questions for later – assuming you survive."

There were no more subvocal whispered conversations. The team leader ordered silence and then only used hand signals afterwards.

They reached the 2nd floor landing and could hear the woman's laughter but not the actual words. The bedroom door was closed and the noisy old refrigerator compressor kicked on and made hearing difficult.

The woman laughed and said something else and then opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway and walked towards the bathroom. She was wearing only her underwear and carrying her wet clothing. Tiger tranked her and caught her before she hit the floor. Silence was the rule. Their mark was unaware that he had company.

* * *

Chuck lay back and waited for the sedative to kick in. He hated this process but it was necessary until…he didn't want it any more. He'd talked about it with Rosario and her sister for hours and he knew there were few alternatives if he wanted…

The door to the bedroom was kicked open and Chuck reached for his pistol lying on the mattress but he was slow to react. The sedative kicked in just as he raised the pistol and sighted in on the intruder. His first thought was for Rosario. They'd probably killed her. That was his last conscious thought.

Omega stopped her forward progress into the…_hospital room_. Their mark had reacted slowly, too slowly and it was apparent that the young woman had given him a sedative. He fought it but lost and his eyes rolled up into his head and he dropped the pistol.

Omega turned around and told Tiger to revive the woman. What the hell was going on? Since the mark was unconscious, the team reassembled in the kitchen area.

"Bring her around. I have questions. We weren't briefed fully. There's something wrong here and I want answers before we proceed with the extraction."

It took a few minutes for the antidote to work and Simba began to question the frightened woman in Spanish since she didn't speak any English.

"Omega, she's a nurse. Local druggers took over a small clinic where she worked to force the local police commander to release drugs and traffickers he had in his jail awaiting transport. She and her sister worked there. The target took out the druggers and freed the hostages. He was injured."

"Injured how? How badly?" The woman hissed something at the team leader, the venom in her voice unmistakable.

"She wants to know how much the cartel is paying us to kill a dying man? How much blood money are we getting?"

"Tell her we're here to take him home. What is all that equipment up there in that room? Why is he sedated and what does she have him on?"

"She says it's a dialysis machine. His remaining kidney is failing. She comes twice a week to help him. She says he's only got a few months until full failure. That's an estimate. She says that killing him now would be a blessing."

"Calm her down. You two secure the perimeter. I have to contact home base." _He can't be dying. Not now._

She walked up to the bedroom and looked at the bearded man resting peacefully while a machine cleaned his blood. She wiped away tears and called her boss.

"Olympus, this is Omega. We have him but there are complications."

She told him what she knew and then was given instructions for extraction back to the US and a medical facility. She was to keep him calm and sedated if required.

* * *

Chuck awoke to noise of a jet aircraft. He was in a comfortable airline seat that was set at full recline. He was handcuffed and blindfolded and his seatbelt was loosely belted around his arms and waist. He could feel someone next to him. A head was leaning against his shoulder and he assumed his captor was using this opportunity to catch up on his sleep.

That seemed like a good idea. He was tired and his back ached, a sure sign that it had been a while since his last dialysis treatment. He frowned when remembered Rosario. She had been there. She was probably dead. Great, another innocent on his conscience. He fell asleep and dreamed of better times.

* * *

He woke up. He was no longer on a plane and his back was aching badly and he had a killer headache. He was in a bed of some kind and in restraints. Someone was in the room. He could hear breathing and the occasional rustle of clothing. He cracked one eye open just a hair but it was dark. He could hear a soft beeping in the background but couldn't identify the source. He heard the whirring of a dialysis machine and wondered 'why bother?'

He fell back to sleep.

* * *

He was jolted awake by a sudden painful light. He tried to turn his head but was too damned tired and couldn't anyway since a hand on his forehead held his head firmly in place.

Fingers forced his other eye open and the light and pain were repeated. He must be on the good stuff because the ache in the small of his back had been reduced to a dull throbbing. He wondered just how much he'd blabbed if they were using drugs to loosen his tongue. Everyone talked eventually. Even those with Guardian training.

He fell asleep again but not before he heard the 'hand and light' speak.

"He's finally coming out of it. Give him water if he asks for it but not too much at one time. Later he'll need to drink as much water as possible. I'll have someone come in and check on him every 15 minutes or so for the next couple of hours. He can eat as soon as he feels like it but he'll probably sleep a lot for the next few days. That's normal. You should take every opportunity to get something to eat yourself and sleep."

"How's the donor doing?"

"Fine. She's sitting up and eating breakfast and hassling her husband. He's still upset that she did this but says a debt of honor must be repaid. That's what he said, anyhow. It's been four days since the surgery and she's ready to be discharged."

She nodded and got up from the chair she'd been in since he'd come from recovery, stretched, nodded to the doctor and left. The room temperature seemed to increase with her departure.

_'That's one cold fish of a woman'_ thought the doctor. She never smiled and the look on her face was one of perpetual anger. It had been four days since the transplant and she'd hardly said a word and she'd rarely let go of his hand unless someone walked in. She seemed to be ashamed of her feelings.

She glanced into the donor's room. Anna Wu Casey was in bed fiddling with her IV while her husband tried to brush her hair and avoid her flailing arms.

"Ouch! You big lummox! I asked you to brush my hair not rip it out by the roots. Give me the damned brush, you big ox, before I'm bald."

"Hu Li, be quiet. You're recovering from surgery and I want to do this. You're the one with the rat's nest for hair." Neither of them was really angry. She'd seen it before when they were first together.

"Anna, how are you feeling?" She ventured into the room figuring it was safe.

"Sarah! How is he? Is he awake yet?" Anna would never call her Lisa.

"No, not really. He's still in and out. So far so good. There's no sign of infection or rejection. The doctor said he'd mostly sleep for the next few days but things were looking good. I don't know how I can ever thank you for…"

"He'd have done it for me and more so don't worry about it. The Ox here is burden enough for me to bear. I'm just glad I was a type match. Besides, Sarah, we owe him, John and I." The '_and you owe him, too, you dumb bitch'_ was unspoken but resonated throughout the room anyway.

Kappa had called in his marker with the director of intelligence of the 'good China' and Anna Wu had been discharged from service and 'ordered' to return to the US since she was a US citizen. She'd found John the day before he left Burbank and they'd gotten married in an almost indecent haste a few days later.

"So, the moron's doing OK, Agent Harris?" Casey still hadn't forgiven her for her for writing Bartowski off even in the face of Hu Li's story. She should have had more faith in him.

The only time Chuck had broken cover was to contact Casey to confirm that Anna Wu had found him. He hung up when Casey told him Sarah had asked for immediate reassignment and that 'Sarah Walker' was no more but Chuck's last words were engraved on his conscience.

_That made sense. 'Sarah' was just an alias for the job named 'Bartowski'. The 'Bartowski job' was over and there was no further need for 'Sarah Walker'. _

That was seven months ago and he hadn't heard a thing from Bartowski until Walker had contacted them saying that Bartowski was in serious trouble.

"Yeah, things look good, Casey. His color is good and his vitals are strong. We got to him in enough time to forestall any of the significant effects of renal collapse. No one would have known he was sick, dying, until it was too late. Him and his damned pride." She still loved him but hated him for betraying her and lying to her to gain her compliance back at Unit 4.

"Graham didn't share any of the information found on the laptop Chuck 'liberated' when he killed Beckman, did he? Ask him about the General's 'friends' and their intentions for Team Bartowski if Kappa hadn't taken us all out or if any of us showed up again. They're still out there waiting for him to contact his sister. That's why she wasn't contacted as a potential donor. Are you too blinded by hate and wounded pride to recognize the facts? He condemned himself to Kappa's life to give each of us one of our own choosing."

"Well, he wears the martyr's robes well, don't you think?"

She was bitter and angry at what she perceived was his use of her to accomplish his mission as Kappa and make a small fortune in the process. It was the embassy steps all over again.

"Considering your feelings towards him, I'm surprised he didn't arrive here DOA. Agent Harris, my wife is tired and your presence is tiresome. Please go rain on someone else's parade. We'd rather celebrate the lives saved."

His rebuke stung and she flinched and turned and left the room. She should have known he'd have a reason for abandoning her without a word or a means of contact. His sister must be beside herself with worry – unless it was all BS to give him plausible deniability. She decided to put it to the test and call Ellie.

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number she never figured to use again when her mind dredged up a comment Chuck had made to her that last day in the mountains.

_'Don't fault me for wanting to protect my lady, Sarah. It's what I'll always do. It's why I was selected for the Guardian program in the first place…'_

* * *

_"Hello?"_

_"Hi, Ellie, it's Sarah Walker. I've been trying to reach Chuck but can't get him on…"_

_"Sarah, Chuck's dead. The police found his burned out car and figured it was a car jacking gone bad. There wasn't a body found but the police said it had probably been dumped in a landfill somewhere near where his Herder was found. I'm sorry but I had no way to reach you. Is this your new telephone number?"_

_She didn't sound particularly broken up and Sarah figured she'd been tipped by Chuck to expect the call._

_"I – I'm so sorry. I've been out of touch lately and – I'm sorry, Ellie, I just can't…" She hung up. Even though she knew it was all a lie she still started to cry. He had done it to protect them all and had willingly sacrificed everything for everyone he loved._

She walked back down the hall towards Chuck's room and collided with Director Graham who was backing out of Chuck's room, laughing as he dodged a pillow.

"Agent Wa – er – Harris! Good job on the extraction. If you'll follow me to the lobby I'll buy you a cup of coffee and we can discuss your team's next assignment."

"You bastard! You knew he was still alive and you didn't tell me until the extraction briefing. You knew it from the first, from Bermuda. What's on that damned laptop of Beckman's that's reason enough to ruin his life and mine? You knew about us and yet you let him leave me on the damned 'embassy steps' again. Why?"

"He was in no shape to make any kind of decisions when we got him home from Bermuda. It was a week before he could even talk and you'd already requested reassignment and I honored it. As for what's on the laptop? It's your death warrant and his, and the Caseys and his sister and her husband."

"I quit! I won't do this any more. I won't work for someone who doesn't give a shit about the people who work for him. Stuff your job up your ass, Mr. Director. Now out of my way. I have some apologies to make and then, as soon as he's able, we will disappear together and woe to the ones who try and find us!"

Graham hid a smirk behind his hand and just nodded as if cowed by her anger. Kappa had basically told him to shove it, too, although he was too doped up to do more than toss a pillow at him. He had accepted the inevitable and acquiesced to accepting a team for security and training. He just didn't want Sarah Walker's team. The hostility she felt towards him was apparent even to someone in his condition.

He walked down the hall and stopped briefly at Anna Casey's room and said his hellos and then gave Casey a 'thumbs up' and left to get back to work. If Harris would just listen to reason, it would be her team that was assigned. Kappa had a lot to teach and they had a lot to learn.

Sarah walked into Chuck's room and closed the door and then kicked off her shoes and hiked up her skirt and carefully climbed onto his bed and sat on the edge.

"I'm sorry I doubted you. I thought you were using me to complete your mission at Unit 4 and when Casey and I woke up and saw all the blood and then your message…I got mad. It was Quito and the embassy steps all over again and I just freaked out when Wu said you were dead and I asked for reassignment."

He just looked at her. He was too doped up to understand much of what she said but he got the important parts. She was sorry, mad and freaked out. OK, he could probably deal with that in the future but not right now.

"OK." He had no idea where this conversation was headed so he just gave a noncommittal answer and figured she'd go on.

She didn't. She just sat there worming a hole in his sheet with her thumbnail. She did that when she was making a personal decision and afraid she was going to screw it up.

Graham walked into the administrative offices of the facility and asked the supervisor for the 'hottest brunette in the place'. The supervisor dialed a number and spoke briefly and in a few minutes a young brunette wearing a dress well above the knees and leather boots with a killer body and green eyes walked in, wondering what she'd done wrong to be summoned to the…shit! It was the Director!

"Miss Simmons, the Director is in need of your services for a brief and highly confidential operation he's running in this very facility. Valerie, you're not in any trouble. The Director will brief you. I have no 'need to know'."

Ten minutes later, Graham and 'Agent Simmons', code name Theta, walked into Chuck's room. Sarah was still sitting on the side of the bed and glared at the Director and moved to the guest chair. She hadn't said a word to Chuck, just sat and tore a hole in his sheet.

"Agent Bartowski, er, Kappa, this is Valerie Simmons, leader of Team Theta. She will be assigned to your operation in Ecuador for training, evaluation and security."

"Oh, Kappa, it will such an honor and opportunity to serve under you…oh, I mean, to be your subordinate…although serving 'under' you would certainly be a pleasure also. I look forward to as much private instruction as possible and oh, I can cook!"

She rushed over to Chuck's bedside and leaned over giving him a view of her most obvious assets. She'd unbuttoned several buttons and her black lace bra barely held her assets. "How are you feeling, Kappa? Are you in pain?" She grabbed his hand and held it firmly between her breasts.

"Chuck, Valerie is the youngest and brightest team leader in the new program. She brings many additional assets to the table as I'm sure you'll soon realize. In addition to being an excellent leader, she's quite adept with her hands – in hand to hand combat, obviously – and she's single, Chuck."

Chuck noticed Sarah's fists clenching and her nostrils flaring and knew he had to say something but nothing he could think of could defuse the situation before the beautiful brunette lost most of her looks.

"Um, well, I'm sure the Director has the utmost confidence in your team's abilities, pero hablas el espanol?"

"What? Spaniels? Huh?"

"I need someone fluent in Spanish at the very least. Director, she's just not up to the task. We interface with the locals a great deal and Spanish is a requirement."

"Um, well, yes, but several members of her team are fluent speakers so this hardly constitutes a deal breaker. You don't speak Spanish, Kappa. It's in your file."

"I lied on my application. I didn't want to spend time in Mexico working with the DEA so I said I couldn't speak Spanish."

Graham choked and glared at Chuck but pushed on with his sales pitch.

"Language abilities aside, and she can certainly learn, she has many other excellent qualities. She's your new security team leader. No arguments. Agent Harris has terminated her contract with the Agency and so the job defaults to the next qualified team – Team Theta."

Lisa had had enough. "Director, take your brunette agent with benefits out of here. I'm the leader of Team Omega and if anyone works under Kappa, it'll be me! I mean, Team Omega. Oh, hell, Art, you know what I mean."

"Kappa, is that acceptable to you?"

"No. I can't have nepotism on my team. Sorry, Agent Harris."

"Ne – nepotism? I'm not your damned sister or cousin, Chuck! It would not be nepotism."

"Yes, Bartowski, indeed. Do tell us." Graham had a suspicion where this was going and he wished he could have recorded it for future analysis.

"I guess all that crap you were spouting off about getting married back at Unit 4 was just so much… crap? You sure worked the hell out of the Honey Trap Manual of Arts."

He'd trapped her and Graham led Valerie out of the room before she said something really dumb and Harris became suspicious. Nepotism! Classic Bartowski. He'd already agreed to Bartowski's only condition. It was a no-brainer.

She started to feel the burning of tears forming and her chin started to quiver and she was gnawing at her lower lip.

"Sarah, come here, baby." She didn't move. She was still trying to understand his position.

"Agent Harris, get your ass over here. It hurts to talk and talking loudly really hurts. I don't want to yell, OK?"

She heard 'hurts' and moved closer, finally sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Better. Here's the deal. You get Art to waive the rules about agents marrying and being assigned together and we'll marry and you and your team can be my houseguests. If he says no – then we get married and you find something to do until I either retire or get so fucked up I get a medical."

"I won't marry you and stay behind. I'm either beside you or…or there's no point in being married."

"Then I guess you'd better catch Graham before he leaves." He laughed quietly to himself. Graham was 'holding position' at the elevator waiting for her. He'd already agreed to Chuck's only condition – a married team.

Chuck pushed the self-medicating device and slipped back to sleep, a disgustingly smug smile on his face.

* * *

Two years later  
Guardian Training Compound

"You need more sunscreen, baby. Remember the UV sensitivity. Just because they've cut back on your anti-rejection drugs is no reason to risk skin cancer."

"Jesus, Anna, will you quit nagging. I'm wearing the hat and long sleeves and it's a zillion degrees out here so cut me some slack." He loved Anna to death but sometimes he wanted to wring her neck like a chicken.

"Hey, moron, I got an investment in you – literally. Now, they got off the ground OK and the casualty report is light – just a few bruises – and they got the two agents out. Fulcrum never knew what hit them. Quit worrying, Kappa, you trained them well."

"I'll quit worrying when they're back in their quarters drinking beer and telling each other lies. This was the team's first op and you know how they tend to overdo just about everything first time out."

"Well, your delightful spouse tagged along to evaluate their performance. She's changed, Chuck, and you're to blame. She's a lot more cautious and she actually thinks about things instead of reacting. That skanky brunette you married is turning out to be quite the trainer."

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with brunettes. I happen to love mine. Now, Senior Training Agent Casey, move your ass. My wife and your husband make an awesome team. I was just ragging on you. I can always tell when you're nervous – and you are, admit it – because of your tell."

"Tell? I do not have a tell, Mr. Fat Cat Assistant Director!"

"Oh, yeah? Look at the hem of your t-shirt, WuWu…Sarah Walker did the same thing when she was nervous but wouldn't talk about it. She internalized the crap out of everything."

She sighed when she realized she'd shredded the hem with a nail. "OK, but he's no spring chicken, Chuckles, and I worry about him. He's pushing the big 4-0 and he's slowing down. I worry about him. And quit calling me WuWu. It's disrespectful and demeaning and embarrassing."

"Yep. It sure is."

Chuck's comm unit buzzed and he answered. "Director, they're on final approach and should be on the ground in 10 minutes. They'll deplane in hangar 3. I've sent a car for you and WuWu." The tower controller was on the ball.

"See! WuWu… you've got the grunts calling me that! I want my frikkin' kidney back, Kappa!"

"Anna, shut up and get in the car."

* * *

It was a short drive to the camouflaged hangar and the plane's large tail was just disappearing into it when they pulled up. There were 2 ambulances waiting for the rescued agents and the team's casualties. Chuck's stomach dropped when he saw the medics hustling out three stretchers.

He broke into a run and was through the closing doors with a few feet to spare and slowed to a walk when he saw the team deplaning. Casey walked down the ramp with his Mossberg over one shoulder and a big grin on his face.

"Hey, Kappa. Slick as snot off a shiny shovel. Not a single misstep. Good training, execution and planning. Too bad you're such a wimp and can't make missions." He saw Chuck looking past Casey, ignoring his barbs.

"She's coming. She's just chewing out a trainee for a little slip of the tongue on the comms, that's all. You shouldn't worry so much, Chuck. She's not Sarah Walker. She actually thinks."

It had taken him almost a year to mostly get over Sarah Walker. Sometimes, late at night when his wife was asleep and he wasn't, he'd sneak out to the kitchen and drink coffee until the wee hours thinking about the blonde agent who'd been his handler, friend and short-time lover.

"Tell that to your wife, Colonel. Now, debriefing in 20 minutes then the BBQ at my quarters."

He turned back to face the ramp and was face-to-face with his wife. The stare-down lasted 30 seconds but they said a lot to each other without saying a word.

_It's OK to worry but I'm back, safe and sound._

_I missed you, baby, and yeah, I worried but I'm fine now._

_Aren't you going to kiss me, Chuck?_

_Yeah…_

The team watched in envy and Casey coughed loudly and was ignored. They were alone in the world and he was reacquainting himself with her mouth while his hands buried themselves in her dark hair. God, how he loved this woman.

When they finally ran out of oxygen and separated a few millimeters, he whispered her name and she smiled.

"Lisa."

"At least you got it right this time." It was a quiet joke between them. In public they were Chuck and Lisa Bartowski but in private, they were still Chuck and Sarah. Some things would never change.

End Hope you liked it - APR

* * *

Bermuda


End file.
